


An End To It

by mandagrammy



Category: Queer as Folk (US), Spartacus: Vengeance, Spartacus: War of the Damned
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Crossover, Drama, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2017-12-15 01:09:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 84,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/843561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandagrammy/pseuds/mandagrammy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story is set during the revolt of the slaves of Rome between 73 B.C. and 71 B.C.  I have done my best to be as accurate to true history as I can, but the story is based on the way history is told by the Starz series, 'Spartacus'.  I've changed Brian and Justin's names slightly to fit what was used in that time period.  All the names I've used for characters are accurate according to my research.  At the beginning none of the four men have met and spent any time together.  I promise you, that will change quite quickly.  The Agron/Nasir part of the story is more canon, while the Brian (Brion)/Justin (Justinus) part of the story is certainly AU.  I hope you will enjoy the blending of these two magnificent couples.</p>
<p>A very special thanks to my beta, Judy...plus I wish to dedicate this story to her.  Her support and friendship has been invaluable in getting me back on track in writing stories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Within the City of Rome

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

A Full Year After the Slave Revolt Begins:

Brion-the Celtic Slave:

Noises were heard coming from the courtyard. It barely caused a ripple in the slave, Brion's head. He had other things to worry about. His Dominus had been in a foul mood for days, and he wasn't a man to keep his anger to himself. Everyone in the House of Cassisus did their best to avoid him when he was in such a state, including his own family. Of course, as his slave, favored or not, Brion had no choice but to be at his master's beck and call. Brion was one of the fortunate ones, however. His brilliant head for organization and business matters, along with his extraordinarily fine appearance, made him a man of some rank among the house slaves. Brion had everything a man could want, except for freedom of choice in all matters pertaining to his own life. 

Brion quickly finished with the household accounts. The sooner he was done, the sooner he could escape to his own quarters and perhaps avoid whatever the nonsense was that caused such noisy clatter. But it was not to be. Just as he was gathering up the last of the papers in front of him and rolling them up for storage, his Dominus rushed in. His face was flush with either anger or excitement. It was impossible to tell which. His next words solved the mystery quickly.

"Brion, pause task. I have need of something far more urgent. We are to be honored by visit from the great Crassus...he that may well rid us of that plague, Spartacus and his barbarian hordes. I intend to seek help in avoiding cursed fate of so many of my friends whose villas have been decimated by the savages. You must speak to cook first. Have only the best prepared to serve our guests. Put tongue to use and warn slaves. If honored house is not immaculate, the whip will be their reward. He will see that those of us who live beyond walls of Rome have tastes as fine as any in the heart of that fair city."

"Yes, Dominus," Brion responded, without hesitation. 

Brion hurried away to do his master's bidding. He hated the man, as he had for all ten years of his servitude, but he was careful never to show it. It was what had kept him alive and prosperous for someone wearing the collar of a slave. Brion still had memories of his Celtic homeland and the family lost to him during a raid by the Roman armies. He had just turned nineteen when he was captured and brought to a port to be put up for sale. He had received an extensive education that included foreign languages, thanks to the patronage of a family friend growing up. One of those was Latin. That ability set him apart from many of the others on the auction block. His price was also upped because he was attractive and well built. Lucius Cassius was looking for a new house slave with some intelligence to replace the body slave who had died suddenly and unexpectedly not long before. Brion heard whispers among the other slaves of how the young man had been found with his wrists slit in an apparent suicide, but no one spoke of such things aloud. 

Brion had one other attribute that his new master appreciated. Cassius was told how the young slave was found in the arms of another man, older by many years, when the soldiers broke into their home. The older man was cut down when he grabbed for a nearby knife and tried to plunge it into the heart of one of the soldiers. Brion, being wiser despite his youth, surrendered immediately and was spared the sword. For Cassius, this meant that Brion would be the perfect body slave. He obviously knew his place and would have no qualms in servicing his new master in a way that pleased the old merchant. Later on, he discovered that Brion had even more talents. His learning was vast and useful, making Cassius doubly happy he had made the purchase. And thus it had been for ten years. Cassius was unaware that Brion had saved every coin he could throughout his life in the villa, hoping for the day that the elderly man would die and he could possibly buy his freedom from the widow, known for her more generous nature. It was all he prayed for. 

******************************************************************

Justinus-the Celtic/Roman Citizen

The young man with pale hair, brilliant blue eyes , and just turned eighteen years of age, sank deeper into the waters of the warm bath. His name was Justinus. Although he was a Roman citizen by birth, his father was born a Celt. As the warm waters caressed his skin, his thoughts turned to his father. His father, Craigh, had been granted Roman citizenship as reward for betraying his village when the Romans invaded more than twenty years earlier. While many of his brethren were enslaved, Craigh traveled freely to the great city itself and established himself using the coin he had also been given for his treachery. Within a year he married the daughter, Ginevra, of a wealthy landowner. A year later, their son was born and named after his mother's father. Craigh was respected by most within the city...but one did not feel such affection. 

Justinus was a young man with a heart every bit as tender as his father's was cold. The older he became, the more he was disturbed by what he witnessed every day of his life. Justinus was intelligent and had the benefit of an excellent education. As a result he was more aware than many of his contemporaries as to the scheming for power that seemed so prevalent among the politicians of their city. Another thing that bothered him a great deal was the inhumane way that slaves were treated by so many of the Romans, especially the aristocrats and wealthy. He had witnessed it in his own home, although never perpetrated by his mother. His father was another story. More than once, Justinus discovered his father forcing himself on one of the house slaves or beating another for a petty offence. It sickened the young man to the core.

For a long time, Craigh was unaware of his son's animosity. He was far too busy building his name and fortune to worry about what his son was thinking. As long as the boy was learning what was needed to inherit his father's businesses someday, Craigh was content. He left his son in the care of his mother and nursemaids when young, and expensive educators when he was older. Because of his frequent absences from their villa, his son had grown up a stranger to the avaricious man he called father. But his son's attitude towards him was not the only thing that Craigh had not recognized in his only child. Justinus had a secret...one known only to his mother and a single slave. 

The slave was a young man called Ethan, a Jewish lad who had been born into slavery and eventually sold to Craigh. The boy's mother angered her former Domina when he was only three years old, and had been sent away to a workhouse where she spent the rest of her short life grinding corn in a millhouse under deplorable conditions. Ethan would not have even known her fate if Justinus had not paid someone to search her out. Justinus used some of the coin he received when he was given the 'toga varilis' to wear, a sign that he was no longer a child and had now been declared a man and full citizen of Rome. He was fourteen at the time. Ethan was only a year older than him. Craigh had only bought the scrawny dark-haired child to serve as body slave to his young son, and as often happened with a master and slave who spent all their time together, the two children became fast friends. 

Their relationship had remained thus until shortly following an unfortunate event that changed everything. It was only a fortnight after Justinus was declared a man that his father returned home from a short business trip and ordered his son to dress in his finest and attend him on a visit to the inner city. Justinus was puzzled. His father seldom asked him to tag along on any adventures in or out of the city. Even more worrying was the look on his mother's face just before they left. The young man had no clue as to where they were going, but it didn't take long to find out. 

The two men, with two accompanying slaves who served as guards for their wealthy masters, wended their way through parts of the city that the young Justinus had never seen before. The busier sections of the city that were often clogged by merchants selling their wares and buyers of all ages looking for a bargain, had gradually faded from view as his father led him into a quieter section of the great city. Here one could see only men, many gathered around various doorways leading into houses that appeared to be of some quality, although far from that of a patrician. The streets were clean and lacking the squalor of the poorer parts of the city. Finally his father came to a halt. Ordering his slaves to wait outside for his return, Craigh pulled Justinus into the doorway of one of the nondescript houses.

They were met at the entrance by a huge man of dark color, appearing to be a Nubian by the looks of him. He wore a traditional slave collar around his neck, but was dressed in finer fabric than that worn by the average slave. The man seemed familiar with Craigh, greeting him with deference and bidding him follow into an inner room. Justinus was confused and more than a little curious. Before he could ask any questions, his father pulled him forward to meet the woman who occupied the long couch in the center of the heavily decorated room. She wore her hair high on her head in tight curls of a brassy red color that was the fashion of late. The young man felt almost sick to his stomach the closer he got to her. She was of indeterminate age and smelled strongly of the perfume she wore. Craigh greeted her warmly by name.

"Lusinia, it is good to see you again," he began. "I bring you my son, as promised. Now it is your turn. He wears the toga of manhood...you must show him the ways of a man."

"A fine specimen," she responded in a cloying voice, eyeing the nervous lad from head to foot. "I will bring my best to bear in deflowering young Master. If he holds to father's talents, he will earn his title quickly." 

Justinus felt even sicker. There was something lurid about the way she spoke to his father and her eyes seemed to strip him naked right in front of her. He had never felt so uncomfortable in his life. Even though Justinus had been sheltered by his mother from much of the crassness of their world, he was rapidly getting the picture as to why his father had brought him to this place. His father had brought him to a brothel, albeit a higher class one from the looks of it. It was also becoming clear that this wasn't his father's first visit to the place. And now he apparently wanted one of the residents to initiate him into the ways of sex with a woman. The thought made Justinus's stomach turn once more. There was one thing that the young man had known about himself for several years now...he had no desire to lay with any woman. The only one he had felt any attraction to up to this moment was his body slave, Ethan, even though nothing had happened between them...not yet.

When Craigh turned to look at his son, he was disappointed to see that the boy had turned almost pale. He turned back to the woman, Lusinia.

"You warm heart with your generosity, Madam. I leave honored son in your capable hands." Craigh turned to his son. "I will return shortly. This good woman will guide you. She is long in years of creating men from boys. Follow wise guidance and see this day a new beginning."

Without waiting for Justinus to absorb all that his father wanted, the man disappeared through the doorway, leaving his bewildered and miserable son behind. Lusinia rose from her couch, striding over to the young man. She circled him as he stood there stiffly, barely able to breathe from the stench of her perfume. He felt like a slave at auction, with no control over his fate. Finally she stopped and returned to her couch. He was grateful that she was no longer standing so close, but seconds later she tinkled a small bell on the table next to the couch. Almost instantly, a thin attractive woman with next to no clothing on her body entered the room. 

"Yes, Dominus?" she inquired, with her head lowered and eyes to the ground.

"Find Abelia, and bring her here."

As the girl hurried away, Lusinia addressed her young guest.

"She will be to your liking, or I carry cock between these thighs," she laughed, pointing to her crotch. The sound of her voice grated on Justinus's ears, and she spoke in a crude way that was totally unfamiliar to him. His mother never allowed such bold language in her household and only his father dared to break those rules. 

Justinus was not a stupid boy. He was now fairly certain what his father had in mind bringing him to this strange place. He had heard from some of his peers that their own father's initiated them into manhood with the services of paid prostitutes. It was something he had prayed to the gods his father would not choose to do to him. The problem lay in the fact that the young man had never felt an attraction to any female, not even any of the attractive slave girls who were all around him in their villa. His father never bought any but the best. No, he had only found one slave attractive, even though he had never pursued his interest. That slave was Ethan. He was still trying to decide what he should do next when a very pretty and youthful girl entered the room. She was barely clothed with only a thin draping covering one breast and her womanhood. Unlike Justinus, she looked totally at ease, as if she had been a part of such a meeting with a stranger countless times before. 

"Ah, there you are, Abelia. Our young master has need of your soft touch. I give you the boy. Return me the man."

"Yes, Mistress," the young girl answered, taking Justinus by the hand and leading him from the room.

Justinus did not know what to do next. If he failed to please his father, he feared the reaction. But as she led him up stairs at the back of the hallway and into a small room fitted with nothing but a small table and large bed, he also feared that all he could do was fail at what was expected of him. Abelia could see how nervous the handsome youth was. She put it down to his inexperience. She quickly let her sparse covering drop to the floor and reached for his toga and tunic in order to remove them. Justinus stood before her in nothing but his loincloth and sandals. It was obvious that her nakedness did not incite the reaction she was accustomed to in his crotch.

"Do I not please you?" she asked.

Justinus took a deep breath. "It is not that you are displeasing. My eye is for another. Apologies."

The young lady was surprised. More than one of her clients had someone special in their lives, but it did not stop them from partaking of her gifts too. She was impressed. 

"Your father brings you here as virgin. Have you lain with your love without his knowledge? Your secret lies safe within these walls."

"Father is not wrong. I stand before you virgin, but my heart wishes another to end such title. Yet I fear his anger if he learned of such thoughts."

Abelia was a romantic at heart, despite her vocation. 

"Then he shall not know the deed between us was never done. We shall linger here a while to give truth to our lie. I shall return you to your lover untouched. She may yet have the honor of being your first."

Justinus felt no need to correct Abelia's assumption as to the sex of his desire. He was too grateful to the girl. He quickly dressed and the two sat for an hour discussing the world around them, including the state of affairs in the city and its provinces. Abelia turned out to be far smarter than Justinus expected. She was even aware of the wars throughout the Roman territories, including the more recent uprising among the slaves and gladiators of the provinces. Surprisingly, Justinus found himself enjoying his visit. But the one thing he hated...the one thing he felt only anger over, was his father's treatment of him. It may have been a common custom, but he only felt betrayal by the man who barely knew him.

It was on this night, when Justinus returned home with his proud father, that life changed forever for the young man. All the way home Craigh spoke of his pride in his son and his future plans for him. Abelia had reported that Justinus was an excellent lover for one unskilled. 'Like Father, like Son', Craigh had bragged. After a celebratory dinner, Craigh left their home again, as he did most evenings. When Ethan came to help Justinus prepare his bath, he found a sullen boy in place of the friendly lad he was used to. It was in his attempts to soothe Justinus that the two teens found themselves within inches of each other. Then, without warning, Justinus kissed Ethan. It was on that night that Justinus did lose his virginity, just as his father had wanted...almost. And it was only the first of many nights to come for almost four years, including the one night when he was seventeen that his mother paid a surprise visit at just the wrong moment and learned her son's secret...a secret she would not share with her husband. 

To be continued......


	2. Outside the City of Rome

A Few Months After the Slave Revolt Begins:

Agron-the German ex-Gladiator Rebel:

Agron still felt the fury inside him. He couldn't escape it. It had been months since he and his fellow rebels had caused the downfall of the house of Batiatus and escaped into the countryside. In the interim, he had spent sleepless nights reliving the nightmare of his brother, Duro's death, during their revolt. He had spent the days trying to assuage his feelings of guilt and his hatred of the Romans by killing as many of the hated enemy as was possible. It had not been enough. Now their small force had moved away from the city of Capua. They headed South in search of Naevia, lover of the fucking Gaul,Crixus. He was the one brother gladiator who irritated Agron like a thorn buried too deep to remove from the skin. Their secondary goal was to invade as many vulnerable outlying villas as they could, and free the slaves found there in hopes of building up their army. That part of Spartacus's plans was more favorable to Agron than searching for a woman he truly believed was forever lost to this world. At each villa, Agron had more opportunities to separate Romans from their lives.

This night they found themselves high on a hill overlooking one such villa. It was obviously the home of someone of importance and riches. The buildings were vast with large orchards behind them. There was no doubt there would be guards on duty, but this would be of little consequence to their small band of warriors. They had faced worse in the past months. They also had the element of surprise in their favor. There had been no signs that anyone knew where the rebels had gone, nor that they were in this part of the region. This was but one of several villas with owners that may have knowledge of Naevia's fate. For that reason, the residents below were about to meet their fate. Agron eagerly awaited the chance to shed more Roman blood. And shed blood, they did. 

The battle for control of the villa ended quickly and with far less resistance than the rebels had expected. Every Roman guard in the villa lay dead by the time the fight was over. They made certain not to kill the owner of the villa, the only other Roman in residence since the man was without child or spouse. He would be the only one who would have full knowledge of Naevia and her fate. Slaves were herded like frightened sheep into the main courtyard so their worth could be evaluated. None would be put to death, but Spartacus had no desire to force them into joining the rebellion. They would all be given a choice in determining their fate. Word of Spartacus and his rebels had spread even into the countryside, despite attempts to suppress such news to keep other slaves from forming ideas of their own. Once the Dominus of the villa was brought out, demanding to know who was offering to free his slaves, fear turned to excitement knowing these were the fabled gladiators who had broken free from bondage. 

There was but one slave who felt neither fear nor joy at word of the identity of their liberators. But no one suspected his true feelings. Not at that moment...not even at the moment his slave collar was ripped from his throat by the great leader himself. First, Spartacus and Agron spent their time in discussion of what to do next while waiting for Crixus to question the Roman about Naevia. Agron's concern was that Crixus was chasing a ghost...a woman who would be nothing like what he held to memory after her ordeal caused by the exposure of their love affair. Agron's desire was to discontinue freeing mere house slaves in favor of searching for true warriors...ones who had been enslaved, in order to swell their ranks with experienced fighting men. As far as he was concerned the house slaves were of little worth. Agron had spent his entire adult life as a fighting man, starting years before being captured by the Romans and forced into slavery and later trained as a gladiator. He had little patience for those unlike himself. 

Agron stood by with an exasperated expression on his face as Spartacus patiently explained that he saw all men and women of worth, proving his point by offering swords to several of the bewildered slaves. It was plain to see that none of them were comfortable with the heavy weapons in their hands, but this didn't deter Spartacus. He assured Agron that intensive training would bring about miracles. Agron grumbled, but he had sworn his loyalty to Spartacus and he was a man of his word, if nothing else. The rest of the evening was spent gathering all weapons and bounty of worth to take with them when they moved on to the next villa. When Spartacus and the others finally retired for the night, Agron bedded down in a room adjacent to the one occupied by Spartacus. He prayed the gods would give him a dreamless night for a change. He had enjoyed few of those since the loss of Duro. As he took to his bed, Agron felt a deep sense of emptiness. Once again he had seen the ground wet with Roman blood, and yet there was still no peace within his heart. Agron feared there never would be in this lifetime.

**********************************************************

Nasir-the Syrian ex-Slave:

Nasir grabbed a ripe plum from the bowl on the table and bit into it, juices escaping from the corner of his mouth. His closest friend, Chadara reached up and swiped the moisture away, causing the young man to pull away from her. They were close friends, but nothing more. Sometimes her bold attempts to capture his attentions bothered Nasir, but he would not offend her for the world. They were both favorites of their Dominus and it was a position they valued. Nasir not only had no desire to risk their status, but the truth was that he didn't find his friend appealing. It wasn't that she was unattractive...far from it, or her position would not be so favorable to their Dominus...it was simply that he was aware he felt no attraction to any of the females. There were, however, a couple of the male slaves he favored, although he never pursued any possibilities. None were worth his risking his life for.

The one male he did not find appealing in any way was his Dominus. He hated the man for the rough way he was always treated by him. It wasn't so bad when the man asked Nasir to fuck him from behind as a way of gaining extra pleasure when fucking a woman, usually Chadara of late. It was not so pleasant when the Roman preferred a tighter entrance, and went after him while Chadara played with ass and balls or lay still while the bastard sucked her breasts. His Dominus cared nothing for Nasir's comfort and seldom made his invasion smooth or painless. But Nasir knew no other kind of life. He had been a member of this household since early childhood when he was sold to the father of his present Dominus as bed warmer for his aged feet during the night. Upon the old man's death, Nasir was old enough to enter the kitchen as server to the new master. A couple of years later, Nasir's attractive appearance led to his high position as body slave to the Dominus, and he quickly learned and accepted his new duties. Thus it had been for two more years...until this night.

Several hours passed when both Chadara and Nasir were called to the bedchamber of their Dominus. The couple knew what it meant when both were called at the same time. The man had rid himself of business associates who had been at the villa for several days and was obviously in a mood to celebrate. Nasir was not only body slave, but also handled much of the household affairs. Despite his youth, he had been given an unusual amount of education by the old master and shown a marked proclivity towards numbers and organization. Because of this, Nasir was aware that his Dominus had secured an excellent business transaction during their visit. They hurried to join him. They knew his temper when kept waiting.

Chadara was the first to disrobe, stretching out on the soft bed of her master. Nasir had been ordered to wait in the corner, a sure sign that tonight would be Chadara's turn to be fucked while Nasir waited to add the finishing touches. The Roman was full of wine from seeing his guests off, so it took some time for him to be aroused. Sweat poured off his face and body, falling like loathsome rain on the woman below him. Long minutes passed before Nasir, still partially dressed, heard his Master order him to insert his cock so that he could orgasm. Nasir was about to approach to do his duty when a disturbance was heard from outside the room. All became chaos from that moment on. Seconds after retrieving his robe and donning it, two burly men entered the room and overpowered the Roman. Chadara grabbed her discarded clothing and all three were pushed forward out of the room. They were led to the main courtyard.

As they exited the building, they overheard one of the men quietly, yet forcefully calming everyone down, making the slaves an offer of freedom if they chose it. Nasir heard his Dominus demanding to know who was making such an offer to his slaves, but was not impressed when the man spoke his name...Spartacus. Nasir's well ordered life was being threatened. That was all he saw when he looked around at all the men standing guard at doorways and surrounding the slaves. Most, including the few women, looked fierce and ready to kill at a moment's notice. The most dangerous ones stood next to their leader, bodies covered in shed blood and a look on their faces that was hard to define. Nasir had the feeling they were the most important men under Spartacus's leadership and that they were the ones to be most feared. There was a look of anger on their faces that wasn't as clearly etched on the face of Spartacus.

One of the two men that Nasir noticed was the one who addressed his Dominus first. His tone of voice was quiet, and yet deadly. As several of the rebels dragged the Roman away, followed by that same rebel, Nasir felt his world crumbling. Something in the way that rebel spoke told him that their Dominus would soon lie among the dead. When that happened, Nasir knew his life was over. Even if they let him live as promised, he had nowhere to go. Everyone knew that if a master was murdered in a household, all the slaves of that house would face a fate worse than death, if not death itself, even those totally innocent of any wrongdoing. Well then, thought Nasir to himself, perhaps his only chance of survival would be to take the life of this Spartacus. That would make him a hero in the eyes of the Romans and maybe give him the chance to find another household to serve. It was either that or sleep this night knowing his life was over.

Nasir waited his chance. It had taken some time for the rebels and nervous slaves to settle down for the night. Nasir was allowed to retire to the small alcove connected to his master's bedchamber, which was his private room. It had made it convenient for the Master to demand Nasir's presence whenever he liked. When he peeked through the curtain separating their two rooms, he was not surprised to see that Spartacus himself claimed the room of the Dominus. He also saw that the man was not alone. Now was his opportunity. He clutched the knife he had stolen from the kitchen firmly in his hand and waited for the couple to begin making love. Nasir could barely breathe. He had never taken, or even attempted to take, another life before. But one thing he was certain of, he could do it. His future depended on it.

Nasir crouched low when he saw Spartacus take up position on top of the woman. His back was now bare and exposed. Nasir knew the moment had come. He launched his attack. His timing was unfortunate. The woman saw him coming and called out. Spartacus had reflexes that the gods would envy. In an instant, Nasir found himself flat on his back with Spartacus on top of him, that same blade now aimed at his face. Death was now moments away, but Nasir had spirit.

"You've already killed me once. Do not hesitate to revisit the deed," he hissed. 

Nasir heard the woman protesting that Spartacus offered him freedom. Nasir felt no such freedom. He accused Spartacus of simply taking his Master's place.

"What would your Master do now, if he stood so assaulted?" asked Spartacus.

"He would see me dead!" Nasir admitted in anger.

"Yes, he would," Spartacus declared.

Spartacus pulled the young man up and called for his men. 

Several came running, including the two men Nasir noticed earlier. Two others grabbed hold of Nasir and held tightly to both arms. Spartacus explained what had happened to the two men Nasir recognized as being of important rank. Nasir stood defiant as he listened to them argue over his fate. The one who had taken away his Dominus earlier was eager to end Nasir's life for the offence. The other seemed surprised to be in agreement with the first one, by the words he spoke about 'the fucking Gaul'. Only Spartacus seemed willing to give Nasir another chance. Some part of Nasir respected the leader, yet he was not so easily swayed by the kind gesture. He stared with daggers in his eyes at all three men. Then the one called 'Gaul' made a promise to end Nasir's life if he made such an attempt again...this just before backhanding the young Syrian and leaving the room. Nasir's fate was now in the hands of Spartacus and the tall gladiator at his side.

"And how do you propose we train this wild little dog?" asked the tall one.

"As Batiatus and Doctore trained me," Spartacus answered.

With a hint of irony, the tall one responded, "And that turned out so well!" 

He was no doubt referring to how Spartacus used his excellent training to escape the ludus and wreck havoc on the Roman countryside.

Nasir no longer had a clue as to what the future held for him. But there was one thing he was now certain of. Spartacus was not the devil he had first thought him to be. He knew that the leader could have easily dispatched him without losing a moment's sleep if he had so desired. His second-in-commands obviously would have approved of such a move. But this Spartacus saw worth in him. Nasir felt himself growing more willing to give the man a chance to prove he was to be trusted. It was a new feeling for Nasir. He had never laid trust in anyone but himself before now. He would steer clear of the Gaul and the tall one, but he would listen to Spartacus. At least that was how he thought as he finally laid his head down to sleep on his first night of freedom.

To be continued.............


	3. A Party for the Romans... A Celebration for the Rebels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brion has been ordered to prepare an invitation to his Master's dinner party (being that he is so skilled at advertising an event worth coming to), and Justinus's father insists his son attend the gathering with him. Hmm, could this mean there will be a meeting between two like-minded men coming up? As for Agron and Nasir, we move forward in time since first we met them so both couples are in the same time period. Agron and Nasir are now what they were meant to be since day one... deeply devoted and passionate lovers. So enjoy as we check on them too.
> 
> A little clue, which Spartacus lovers should recognize, as to how at least one of our Britin couple will meet up with Nagron, and where it will happen, is provided for you. Can you find it?

Nearly a month had passed since the dinner party Lucius Cassius hosted for the wealthy businessman and Senator, Marcus Crassus. The good mood the Dominus of the house enjoyed during the party was slowly eroding as each day passed since then. He had been especially pleased just to have the great man himself accepting his invitation, brokered by several of Cassius's closest friends in the Senate. There had been purpose for the invitation that had nothing to do with a simple evening of good company and fine food. A few Senators, as well as many other wealthy citizens of Rome, wanted to test the waters with Crassus. It was all rooted in their growing fear of the slave revolt throughout the provinces of Rome. 

What had started as a minor rebellion by an individual group of gladiators from one particular ludus, the house of Batiatus, had grown into just over a year of full-scale war with thousands upon thousands of escaped slaves supporting it. In the beginning, only mercenaries and village militia were sent out to rout the rebels. When that hadn't brought the results needed to end their reign of terror on Roman villas and small villages, the Senate finally sent out a Praetor from Rome named Glaber. He marched from Rome with trained soldiers to the town where it all began,Capua, where he picked up even more men. He was now the head of three thousand in total, trained to fight battles rather than being simple volunteers and paid mercenaries with no real loyalties outside of coin. Hope had been high that Glaber would end this scourge, but they were soon dashed. Glaber eventually fell to the smaller force of rebel warriors, which only encouraged even more escapes from bondage of thousands more slaves. What had started out as a force of less than a hundred gladiators had become an army of thirty thousand men and women, many of whom were fierce in battle even if not fully trained.

The death of Glaber and his forces by an inferior number of warriors, did accomplish one important thing within the walls of Rome. Their leaders had treated the uprising as nothing more than a pesky thorn in their side...unworthy of the full might of Roman legions. Suddenly that was no longer the case. The Senate was now willing to fund and dispatch two of their Consul Generals, Cosinnius and Furius, along with two legions of soldiers each, to take on the growing threat. However, despite their added numbers and superior skills, the Romans still found themselves losing battle after battle to the rebels. Now the Senate found themselves with another distressing problem...a lack of coin to fund further advances against Spartacus and his people. This was the very reason that more Senators and men of importance within Rome were now courting favor with Crassus. He was known as the wealthiest man in the Country. He was not only wealthy, but also known to be ambitious. Now it appeared the time had come to talk seriously with the man about asking for financial support.

Part of the reason for Cassius's growing unrest was that Crassus had not given any encouragement to the subtle pleas for help so far. In the weeks since attending Cassius's party, the man had not seen fit to respond to a single one of the subsequent invitations, or those of any of their peers. No one knew what the great man was thinking or planning. Recent news of the rebellion had been far from reassuring. Cassius found it more and more difficult to rest at night. Even his body slave, Brion, had been unable to relieve him of the stress he felt through means of a good fucking or body massage. To add insult to injury, some of his property outside of Rome had been attacked by the rebels. This caused a shortage in the businessman's income from the vineyards and farmlands. Only his financial interests in a partnership with Ennuis, Aedile and merchant businessman from the coastal city of Sinuessa, could still be relied on for income. The city was well protected and out of reach to the rebels.

When the Dominus was so upset, everyone in the household suffered. The Domina of the house had just left the Roman villa for their vacation home on the Isle of Capri. Theory held that the rebels could never invade the island, thus making it the safest place close to Rome to be during these perilous times. Cassius was not sorry to see her go, having little love for his wife, but in truth his desire was to escape the city too. It was not a possibility, however, at this time. Since he was unable to get away, Cassius decided to begin cultivating more wealthy allies to their cause. If Crassus refused to help raise an even larger and better equipped army to fight the rebels, then maybe the Senators and patricians could persuade several of the wealthy citizens to band together to do what only a single man as rich as Crassus could do on his own. 

It was for that reason that Brion, Cassius's personal body slave and liaison for all the lower ranking house slaves, was called to the Dominus's private rooms the day after the Domina departed. He entered the room with some trepidation. This crazy Spartacus and his followers were causing all sorts of anxiety-ridden changes throughout Rome. What affected Roman citizens, almost always affected their hapless slaves as well. It was hard enough to deal with his Dominus, and the man's frequent mood swings, without this added pressure. As top ranked among the slaves, Brion also had to deal with keeping the household running smoothly. Brion had caught the slaves whispering about the rebellion more than once. Not knowing just how loyal Brion was to their master, they usually shut their mouths quickly whenever he came near. Far too many times it wasn't fast enough. 

Brion had no intention of informing on his peers. He was far too wise to reveal how deep his hatred of Cassius ran to anyone. Although he did not trust the other slaves, he still would not do anything to help Cassius, even to look good in the man's eyes. That did not mean that he approved of all their gossip. Brion knew that it would only take one slip of the tongue at the wrong moment and Cassius would unleash his temper on all around him, if he knew what his slaves were talking about. Brion's concern was not for the fools with loose tongues, but for himself. Brion had learned long ago to take care of himself first, and he had no wish to see the Dominus angered so. Brion was talented at knowing when and how to speak to Cassius. It was what kept him from mistreatment most of the time. Yet there had been mistakes made. Brion had felt the whip a few times over the years, and with all the tension pervading the household, Brion feared it could happen again, despite his best efforts to avoid such fate. For that reason, he was more cautious than usual as he entered the room and faced his Dominus.

"There you are, Brion! Were feet planted in ground? I called for you some time past," Cassius questioned in an irritated voice. 

Brion felt his stomach clench. He knew that tone. It often led to a sharp rap or slap across the face. It even was a prelude to banishment long enough for the master to calm himself down on occasion. Brion carefully controlled his own voice when he answered, not revealing the fear that invaded his guts.

"Apologies, Dominus. You have need of me?"

"Fucking fool! If need was absent, would I call for you? There is to be a dinner party five days hence. Find list of desired guests on desk. Set mind to task and pen to parchment. Send messengers to each house and wait for response. Use skills with words and see to positive response. Be quick about it. Failure to bring desired results will cost dearly."

"Yes, Dominus."

Brion knew what his master meant. He hurried away, determined to advertise this party as an event that must not be missed no matter what. He settled into his seat at the table where he kept the household accounts. Opening the list that waited for him there, he saw that every name written on the parchment was of a rich and powerful household. It included influential Senators and wealthy businessmen. One thing was clear, Cassius was about to attempt to curry favor for something of importance. Brion got to work immediately, letting his mind run through one idea after another on how to word the invitation to draw the most favorable response from these men. Cassius would accept nothing less. He was selling something to these men and it was up to Brion to bring them to the party so they would buy whatever that was. He began writing. There was no time to waste.

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The young Roman, Justinus, settled back on the full cushions of his luxurious bed and sighed deeply. His body slave, Ethan, rolled away from the prone body stretched out beneath him. He had known his master since early childhood and been lover to the man for several years now. He knew when something was bothering him.

"Apologies, Justinus," using his proper name, which would have gotten him whipped if used on any other Roman. "I have once again displeased you."

"Cease such thoughts, Ethan. Fault does not lie on your head. Inability to arouse cock lies elsewhere."

"Break words and I shall endeavor to fix problem," Ethan vowed.

"Can you rid me of hated name? Can you change cursed lineage?"

Ethan had no answer. He knew that the relationship between father and son in this household was strained at best. He also felt he knew the reason why. Justinus still felt the sting of his father's treatment of him. They had never been close, but their connection was nearly severed entirely four years earlier when Justinus was almost forced into losing his virginity to a woman. That night had changed both their lives when Justinus returned home from an outing with his father. It had been Ethan's dearest wish to serve Justinus sexually for more than a year before that night occurred. He had been certain that it was also Justinus's desire. That night had been the beginning of his wish fulfilled. Lately, however, Ethan had sensed changes coming. For months now they had spent less and less time together sexually, and many times their lovemaking ended in frustration...as it did again this night.

Justinus rose from his bed and walked over to the nearby table. He poured himself a cup of wine, staring off into space. His thoughts were dark, as they often were of late. The uprising by the rebel slaves had been downplayed for more than a year, but it was now being called a war, at least among the citizens of Rome. His father talked of nothing else but how to destroy the movement and wipe out all the rebels. Their triumphs cost Craigh dearly with lost revenue from businesses in the provinces. Justinus knew how fierce and bloody the rebels had been, and the many Roman lives lost to them. Yet a part of him understood their anger, and why they fought so hard. He and his mother had never laid a hand on any of their slaves, but he also witnessed countless cruelties perpetrated on slaves owned by others, including his own father. Justinus even went out of his way to avoid joining his father at the gladiator games held in the arena. His mother always refused to go, her one defiance of her husband's expectations. Bloodshed was not entertainment for Justinus.

He now turned to Ethan and dismissed him. "Take to your bed. Banish thoughts of my displeasure. I have only self to blame for dismal mood."

Ethan hurried away. Justinus settled back on his bed and tried to calm his cluttered mind. What had created his foul mood on this particular night was an order from his father. There were many times that Justinus could wriggle his way out of attending something with his father, but the man had been adamant that his son would join his parents this time. They had received an invitation to a party being held by another wealthy businessman, and sometime friend, of his father's. His name was Cassius. If the dinner had been about business only, Justinus would have understood the reasoning behind his father's insistence on his attendance. After Justinus turned eighteen, Craigh had become more and more eager to make his son show interest in the family businesses. It was not where the young man's heart lay, however. His interests were more of an artistic leaning, which was totally abhorrent to his father. 

The invitation, which had been worded quite interestingly, revealed that there would also be a lively debate on the slave rebellion. This meant that Justinus would be forced to listen to mad discourses on the devils who were threatening the Roman way of life. Justinus, who found fault with much of the violence the rebels carried out, also found himself sympathizing with them to a degree. The dichotomy often led to Justinus feeling confused and uncomfortable among other Romans. He would have happily avoided the party at the house of Cassius, but his father forbade it. Justinus decided he wouldn't test his father's limits... not at this time. He would save such a move for something more serious. He feared that the first time he stood up to his father, might be the last time. He still had a few days to think about how he would handle himself once they were at the party. Maybe something would come to him that would help him make more sense of this crazy world they lived in. He didn't know who else would be at the party, but maybe he would meet someone there who would be of like mind with him. He could only hope for the best.

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Agron, top General and confidante to Spartacus, looked down on the beautiful face of his lover, Nasir. The Syrian's dark eyes were full of humor. They always managed to warm Agron's heart in ways he had never thought possible. All his adult life he had fucked men here and there, yet never once connected to anyone in any way but physically. That changed completely with the arrival of Nasir into his life. He seldom allowed himself to reflect on how close he had come to never knowing such bliss with this man lying beneath him. When first he saw Nasir, the young man had attempted to assassinate Spartacus himself. At the time, Agron had favored killing Nasir for such an attempt. Luckily, Spartacus's cooler head prevailed and the lad was spared. Since then, Agron quickly began to recognize the true character of Nasir... one he more than admired a little. Nasir was more courageous and compassionate than any man Agron had ever known before, except maybe for Spartacus. 

Even more importantly to Agron, Nasir seemed to see within Agron's soul, and liked what he saw. He brought out a gentleness in Agron that had always been there, yet lost with the death of Agron's younger brother, Duro. Agron spent months admiring Nasir from afar while the young man took to weapons training as if born to it. The tentative conversations they had on occasion during this period became more frequent and playful. Then a singular event brought about momentous changes for the couple. Nasir almost lost his life on a mission to save the lover of Crixus, Spartacus's other General. Agron's heart had never hurt so much as it did waiting to see if Nasir would live or die from a great wound inflicted on him. Agron felt tremendous guilt since he had refused to join the mission for his own reasons. But fate had been kind to Agron. Nasir lived. Once the young Syrian was back on his feet, Agron wasted no time in greeting Nasir with a kiss so tender it would have made a virgin blush. 

It was only the beginning. The moment Nasir's wound was fully healed, the two became lovers. In between battles and raids, they made love as if every day would be their last. No two lovers showed more passion as they took turns possessing one another. Two hearts became one... two bodies became one... two souls became one, time and time again. They never had enough. Only duties and combat kept them apart, and even that did not always separate them. The most passionate nights followed their triumphs over the enemy. It was at times like these that their lovemaking would split the heavens with the intensity they felt for one another. This night was one such coupling. They had defeated the forces of Cossinius and Furius, even though the Consul-Generals themselves escaped, and the couple were feeling particularly alive and lustful.

Agron's kisses were torrid as he nipped and sucked his way along Nasir's neck and torso. Their lips became bruised as their tongues probed the depths of their mouths, their breaths intermingling. As their passion for one another mounted to an all-consuming need, their bodies joined as one. Skin, browned by the sun met with skin, darkened by birthright as Agron's thighs slapped against Nasir's. His manhood sought refuge again and again in the warmth Nasir offered so willingly. Agron possessed a cock that seemed to know exactly where to reach for that special place in Nasir that caused his body to tremble. Each stroke was like a nerve ending being tickled. Soon both men found themselves quivering with the urge to release the tension built inside them. Neither wanted to wait any longer. They let themselves go, emitting a sound somewhere between laughter and a cry of surrender. 

Agron fell hard atop Nasir, the smaller man running his hands through Agron's dampened hair and pulling his face down for another kiss. Nasir was obviously proud of Agron's prowess, as well as his own. The couple traded praise of one another in a way that would have sounded boastful and arrogant if not for the truth of it. When Agron rose to fetch wine that Nasir requested to quench their thirst, a result of their strenuous endeavors, his pride in Nasir for reasons other than sexual prowess became evident too.

"You afforded yourself well upon the field this day," he remarked.

"You stand surprised," answered Nasir.

"I've always believed in you, Nasir. Even when you were yet a contrary little Syrian slave boy."

"My eyes were yet shrouded. I'm forever in Spartacus's debt for parting veil."

"A debt shared equally by all. One we shall repay with Roman lives," Agron promised.

The couple smiled at each other. They were fully aware of what Agron's words meant... that a time might come when the blood shed could be their own, but they found joy in this cause that had brought them together. They fought for the freedom of others, but it was their own freedom... their right to choose who to love and when to share that love... that was of utmost importance to the couple. No Roman master could part them simply because he or she wanted to. Spartacus gave them that gift of choice and they would honor it with total loyalty. Tonight they celebrated the routing of forces led by Cossinius and Furius. Next time they would capture the Consul-Generals themselves. They trusted that Spartacus would find a way to accomplish that task. They knew, even as they snuffed out their oil lamps and lay back down together, with Nasir's head resting against Agron's broad chest, that even the death of those two men would not end the war. They had no idea who Rome would send out next, but it didn't really matter. They would continue to build their forces during the lull between battles. They would continue to harass and bedevil the Romans. They would continue to fight and bleed together if need be... and they would continue to love each other at every opportunity, until the day the gods turned from them and one or both journeyed to the afterlife. And nothing or no one would ever separate them until that day. It was a vow they intended to keep.

To be continued........


	4. A Fateful Meeting... A Fateful Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As promised, Brion and Justinus are about to meet. Where it will lead to in the future, only the fates know. As for Agron and Nasir, they are simply moving forward with the rebellion, but could plans that Spartacus is thinking of pursuing lead to changes for the loving couple... as well as two other men they haven't met yet? Only time will tell.
> 
> Many thanks to my beta, Judy.

Ethan completed his task, laying out the clothing his young master had chosen for the night's festivities. They were not Justinus's favorites, but this didn't surprise the young body slave at all. He was fully aware that Justinus was not overjoyed to be attending the dinner party. He would have gladly stayed home if his father, Craigh, had allowed it. Even so, the clothes were nothing to be ashamed of. Craigh would not have anything but the finest silks and wool for his only son to wear. His wife, Ginevra, also wore only the best quality materials on her body. It was not a case of Craigh's generosity or indulgence. It was a matter of pride. He could not be seen by others as anything but a wealthy man, thus his home was only furnished with the work of the best craftsman, and his family was only seen wearing the best fabrics and jewelry. Tonight, Justinus would wear his dark green and blue tunic with a piping made of golden thread, covered by his toga of pure white. A brooch in the form of the family crest, a red lion and elk facing each other, lay next to the garments, waiting to be pinned to his shoulder for support. Ethan knew Justinus would look particularly attractive tonight. 

Ethan would not be attending, although he often accompanied Justinus wherever he went. Instead, Craigh informed his son that his own bodyguards would be their escort, and there would be plenty of slaves provided for their needs at the house of Cassius. Ethan was not happy to be excluded, especially from an affair such as this. Even mere slaves, like himself, enjoyed the chance to get away from the daily routine. Besides, Ethan knew Justinus sometimes found his father's acquaintances boring. At times like that, Justinus usually sought a way to absent himself from the main party so that he and Ethan could find somewhere private to chat about something of more interest to the young Roman. Ethan wondered if the Dominus had noticed such a thing being done by his son and forbade bringing the body slave so that he could have his full attention. It wouldn't surprise the slave at all. Father and son did seem to enjoy irritating each other at every opportunity. Well, it was of no concern to Ethan. While Dominus, Domina, and son went out for the evening, the household slaves could relax a little. Maybe Ethan would check out the new slave the Dominus had purchased only a week before. The young man was rather appealing and Ethan was getting very little satisfaction from Justinus lately.

Just as the young Master crossed his mind, Ethan saw Justinus coming through the doorway. He was draped in a large towel fresh from his bath. Justinus stepped into his bedchamber and walked over to his bed. He witnessed the usual care that his body slave provided in laying out his garments. Ethan certainly knew how to please. There were times, however, when Justinus couldn't help wondering how solicitous his slave would be if not forced to it out of fear of punishment. Not that Justinus would even consider any form of punishment for his childhood friend. Justinus had never sought punishment for a single one of the family slaves, least of all Ethan. He doubted he ever could. The thought of another human being suffering on his whim was totally abhorrent to Justinus, no matter what the custom was for his people. Justinus actually found himself often mulling over the thought of how he would feel if he was the one born to slavery. It was only the Fates that provided him the privileged life he led, but fate could have turned the other way just as easily. 

Tonight was not the time for such deep philosophical musings. He would need to prepare himself for an evening of conversation that he would probably find boring, at best, and maybe disturbing as well. Justinus would have gladly forsaken the gathering in exchange for an evening at home alone with his paints and scrolls. He doubted his father even knew that painting was his son's main source of interest, nor would he care even if he did know. Paintings, sculpture, and architecture were for craftsman, not the son of a businessman like Craigh. Justinus did not keep his pastime a secret, but he really had no need to hide it. His father seldom visited his bedchamber, where the young man kept all of his supplies. If he was lucky, they would return home at a reasonable hour and he would have some time to work on his latest project... a drawing of the garden just outside their central atrium. He wanted to try his hand at drawing the human form, but had found no inspiration so far. It didn't matter what he drew. All he knew was that he felt compelled to take up paint and brush. For now, however, he must put away such desires. He had just pinned his toga at the shoulder when he heard his father calling. It was time to obey his father's wishes. He wasn't looking forward to it.

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Brion stayed back in the corner of the great hall leading to the center of the estate. His task was to oversee the other house slaves and make sure they catered to every whim of his Dominus's guests. The female slaves were draped in linen garments that barely hid their private areas. Many of the more nubile girls wore a single strap covering one breast while the other lay bare. The males wore nothing more than subligarias or a very short tunic made of white cotton. All wore slave collars around their throats, including Brion, although he was dressed in finer cloth and a more colorful tunic that reached to his knees. Musicians and scantily-clad dancers stood nearby waiting for their cue to perform. Trays of sweetmeats and honeyed wine were passed among the gathering guests. Each and every invitee had accepted the carefully worded invitation created by Brion... a thing of pleasure for Cassius. Nearly all the guests had arrived. It was time to announce that dinner was about to be served.

Brion was about to leave his post to check on the kitchen staff and ensure that all was going as planned when he noticed the last of the guests entering the great hall. It was the merchantman, Craigh, along with his wife and son. Brion knew all about Craigh, although he would show no sign of it to anyone. The man's name was well known by a number of Celtic slaves in Rome. What was known about Craigh explained the reason why there were no Celts among the man's household slaves. Brion surmised it was the fear of being assassinated by a slave from the land of the Celts that kept him from making such a purchase, at least for his private household staff. Brion was but a lad of nine years of age when stories were carried from one village to another of the man called Craigh, the Deceiver. He had served as right-hand man to the chieftain of his village and then betrayed him by colluding with the Romans when they invaded during their quest to enslave the people and annex their lands for Roman settlers. His betrayal cost the lives and freedom of nearly everyone in the community, with only a small number escaping to tell the tale. Word spread quickly of the great rewards he received for his act of duplicity. He was not seen again by any of their people... not until some arrived in chains in Rome itself. It wasn't long before his true fate became known, but there was nothing anyone could do about it. 

Brion's village had been spared because of its location at the time of the first attacks. Ten years later, however, his village also fell under the control of the Roman hordes. This time there was no treachery involved, but those who remembered the stories of the traitor never forgot him, whether directly affected by him or not. Brion's knowledge of the man's true nature was one of the reasons he was unhappy to see his name on the guest list. He had no desire to see the man's face, but he certainly would not show his disdain for the bastard. Brion valued his health too much to indulge in any display of scorn, no matter how much the man deserved it. A slave was never allowed the luxury of expressing his true feelings... not if he wished to remain healthy and alive. Brion quickly banished thoughts of who the man was that was now approaching him and schooled his face into an impassive expression.

"Welcome to the noble House of Lucius Cassius, Honored Sir. You arrive as meal is about to be served. If you have need of anything, please tell any servant and it shall be yours."

Craigh looked past Brion as if he wasn't there.

"Where is your Dominus? I would break words with him in private before meal."

Brion was taken aback. The man was not only a late-comer to the party, but was now rude enough to demand individual attention from the host just as dinner was about to be served to all the other guests. But it was not Brion's job to point out the inappropriateness of this man's behavior. Instead, he called for one of the young house slaves waiting to serve the needs of the guests.

"Duilio, pass message to Dominus that honored guest, Craigh, wishes a private discourse with him before meal." 

The young boy hurried away in search of his master. Brion turned back to Craigh.

"May I offer another to direct wife and son to join others gathered within?" he asked, noticing the two people behind Craigh for the first time.

Craigh's wife spoke up. "Yes, please do. Knowing husband, it could be a long wait before presence is granted us again." she responded, with a hint of sarcasm.

Brion called over a second slave, a very pretty girl not yet twenty years of age. After giving her instructions, Brion watched as she led Craigh's wife and son away to join the other party guests. As the son passed by him, Brion was struck by his beauty. There was a gentleness in the young man's face that was clearly absent from the father. Brion was surprised that he even noticed the difference between the two. He did not make it a practice looking directly into the faces of the Romans. It was considered an insult by many of them and Brion avoided giving cause to any that could make his life more difficult. Looking directly at the son was an accident of timing, and yet Brion did not regret it. He decided it was in the young man's eyes. He had the clearest, bluest eyes Brion had ever seen. There was a light in them. Brion was utterly shocked in the next moment as the young man passed by him following behind the slave and his mother. For one fleeting instant, Brion found himself wanting to lean forward and kiss the full lips that graced that beautiful face. The thought passed just as quickly as it formed. Thoughts like that were well beyond the point of madness and danger. Brion shrugged it off and led Craigh to the office of his Dominus. Cassius arrived quickly and dismissed Brion, sending him to the kitchen to continue the duties delayed by the arrival of the final guest. As he left, his thoughts were not on what the two men would be talking about. His thoughts again wandered into dangerous territory. His thoughts were on the attractive blond son of his hated kinsman.

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Craigh was not a man to waste words on any matter, especially ones that were of great importance. He had a message for his host. After receiving the invitation from Cassius to attend tonight's gathering, he instantly knew what it was about despite the fact that the wording was somewhat vague, albeit tantalizing. He already knew who many of the other guests would be, thus solidifying his theory. It helped that Craigh knew something that Cassius was not privy to. Craigh had business dealings with Marcus Crassus in the past and the two men had formed a friendship of sorts. It was best described as a friendly business rivalry, although Craigh was far from being as successful as Crassus. Craigh knew that Crassus admired his devious mind, and ability to turn defeats into triumphs through whatever means was necessary. Both men felt that the ends always justified the means. Because of their friendship, Craigh was one of the few men that Crassus confided in concerning his thoughts on an offer made recently after the defeat suffered by the forces led by Cossinius and Furius against Spartacus and the rebels. 

The gist of Crassus's plans meant that he was finally willing to finance a force of ten thousand trained soldiers to destroy the rebellion once and for all. The Senate themselves sent an envoy offering him a command under Cossinius and Furius in exchange for his support. For reasons known only to Crassus, he did not wish this news to be shared with the entire city... not just yet. Only Crassus's son, Tiberius was privy to his father's ambition to have full command of his troops as Praetor. Crassus already had set a scheme in motion to attain that lofty position. Only then would he allow all of Rome to know. When Craigh told Crassus of the invitation from Cassius, he was instructed on what to tell his host. This was why Craigh now sat in the man's office.

Cassius looked perturbed to be called away while his other guests waited on their evening meal. The two men greeted each other as the casual acquaintances they were. A quarter of an hour later, Cassius knew he had wasted his money and time in arranging the party. There would be no need to curry favor or solicit financial support from any of these men that graced his tables this night. The wily and secretive Crassus was the one in charge of Rome's future desire to rid themselves of the rebel scourge. Cassius was also sworn to secrecy, just as his guest had been earlier by Crassus himself. Cassius felt lucky to be a part of the inner circle of a man as powerful and ambitious as Crassus. Puffed up with prideful importance, Cassius left his office with Craigh following behind and hurried to join the other guests. The party would not be in vain. He would enjoy their company, and they would enjoy his hospitality, and no one but Craigh would know the true reason behind the whole thing.

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Justinus did not notice when his father entered the dining hall of the estate. He was seated on a cushioned couch next to his mother. He barely listened to what another of the guest prattled on about to his mother. She was an old family friend, but Justinus could not have cared less what she had to say. It was some nonsense about the exorbitant price of cloth, thanks to the slave rebellion against Rome. He was tired of hearing how all the woes of the city could be placed squarely at the feet of Spartacus and the rebels. The thought crossed his mind that there might not have been a rebellion if the slaves were treated more humanely. Of course, he kept his thoughts to himself. But that thought was not the one that kept pricking at his brain right now. No, something else was on his mind, and it was causing him to feel quite distracted.

Justinus was bothered by something unexpected. Unlike the average Roman citizen, he never thought of slaves as nothing more than a piece of furniture... property to be ignored when not in use. Ethan was not the only slave in his household that Justinus spent time talking with on occasion. He was actually interested in the lives of those around him, even when they wore the slave collar. But despite his recognizing slaves as human beings with feelings like his own, he had never paid attention to any slaves outside of those owned by his own family. And yet now, he found himself thinking about a slave that he didn't even know the name of. What was more surprising, he was face to face with that particular slave for mere seconds... hardly time to form an opinion about him. Their eyes had locked so briefly; and yet Justinus could still see those hazel eyes staring at him intently in that brief moment. Why he couldn't get the image out of his head was puzzling. 

Even after his father joined them, looking oddly smug, and dinner was consumed, Justinus realized he was still seeing that slave's eyes staring at him in his imagination. He even found himself looking around the large room, unconsciously trying to locate that same slave. When the meal was over and the tables cleared, Justinus again searched the room without thinking of why he did so. All the guests began milling about, dividing into little cliques... men and women for the most part in separate groups. Justinus was the youngest person in the room by a number of years so he found himself off in a corner alone as the host called for entertainment to begin. There were dancers and acrobats to watch performing, but Justinus was bored. He felt restless. He hated the fact his father made him come even more at this very moment. Absentmindedly, he began wandering away from the main body of the activity going on. A few minutes later, he found himself in the estate's vast garden. There were benches arranged throughout and a small fountain, with a statue of Bacchus holding a bunch of grapes high in the air as if offering them as sacrifice to the great Jupiter in the center.

Sighing deeply in contentment at the peace and quiet out here under the stars, the young man took a seat. The air was filled with the perfume of dozens of flowers of every type. Cassius may have been known as a boorish man, but he certainly knew how to put his slaves to good use in producing beautiful gardens. Justinus thought the grounds would make a lovely drawing, if only he had the right tools and was allowed the chance to reproduce what he saw. Of course, that would never happen. Suddenly, the young man saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned to face whoever had invaded the tranquility he was enjoying, praying it wasn't Cassius or his father. It was neither.

"Apologies, young Master. I did not know the garden was occupied. I shall take leave so you may return to deep thoughts."

It was that same tall, hazel-eyed slave.

"No, stay your departure. Please. It is I who trespass in your domain."

"Not mine, but my Dominus's. Banish worry of disturbing Dominus, however. He spends little time in cherished gardens. They are the delight of Domina, not his."

Brion turned to leave, but was again stopped.

"Please do not take your leave because of my presence. Do you visit these gardens often?"

"When mood strikes and opportunity arises, I do."

"Would you brand me rude if I asked a question of you? I confess to curiosity. You greeted us at arrival, but was unseen after that. What position do you hold in this house?" Justinus paused, then added. "Do not think you must answer because you are slave and I, Roman."

Brion was taken aback. He had never known a Roman who wanted an answer to a question and yet told a slave he did not have to give it, What's more, this was the son of the traitor, Craigh, who was known to be a haughty man that all his slaves feared. This young man was nothing like Brion expected. He now wondered if his first impression of the young man was more than a little accurate. The son appeared to be nothing like the father. But still, he was a Roman. That meant Brion had to tread carefully.

"You have but to ask..."

"Justinus. My name is Justinus."

Brion hesitated. Calling a Roman by his name was frowned upon, unless it was your master and he or she gave permission to do so. He did not know this young man... this Justinus. But there was something about the way he smiled when he said his name that gave Brion courage.

"You have but to ask... Justinus. I am overseer of Dominus's household, a position of some rank. My duties kept me away."

"And the name you are called by...?"

"Brion. I was given the name Brion upon birth."

"And what land do you hale from, Brion?"

Brion was about to answer when the two men heard the sound of approaching footsteps. It was Ginevra. Justinus turned away to greet her.

"Justinus, your father calls for you. Take leave and hurry. He shows contentment. Pray he remains so. Give no cause to change placid mood."

"Yes, Mother."

Justinus was loathe to leave. He was enjoying Brion's company, but he knew his mother was right. His father was obviously pleased with the way the evening had gone, and it would be wise to keep him happy. He turned back to say his goodbye to the interesting slave, but was surprised to see no one there. Justinus felt his heart skip. He knew it was silly of him. The chances he would ever see the man again, much less have a conversation with him, were extremely slim, and yet he wished the man had stayed to say goodbye. Disappointed, Justinus hurried to join his mother. He hoped he would see Brion once more as he left the villa. It did not happen. As his family stepped out into the street and into the litter that would take them home, he reflected on how the night had ended. He had wanted nothing to do with this party, but now he was glad he came. Although it would probably only lead to frustration in the end.

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As Justinus and Brion parted ways, three other men were staring down upon a large villa from a rocky outcrop and praying that the night would end in bloodshed and victory. Thanks to a message from Crassus that Spartacus intercepted from a small band of Roman soldiers on their way to Cossinius and Furius, they had become aware of how to find the two Consul-Generals. With some careful scouting, they finally located the two men. Their goal was to separate the men's heads from their bodies in order to break the spirit of the Roman soldiers who had thus far continued to fight, despite repeated losses. Tonight they would do just that, or die in the attempt. It was vital that they succeed, because the message also provided important news of Crassus, soon to be in pursuit of them with a force of ten thousand men. 

Spartacus assigned Agron to the task of providing a diversion to lead most of the encamped soldiers away from the villa while he, Crixus, and Gannicus snuck in under cover of darkness. In the end, Spartacus's plans ended in victory, as they had so many times before. Many Roman soldiers lost their lives this night, including both Cossinius and Furius. Once the remainder of their forces saw their heads displayed on pikes, they broke ranks and fled. There was no time for the rebels to celebrate their victory. The threat of Crassus's army was not to be taken lightly. That, along with the coming Winter, coupled with what was now a constantly growing party of rebel slaves, gave concern as to what should be their next move. After some discussion with his Generals, Spartacus made his decision. It was time for them to find a place large enough for their forces to regroup and make plans for the future of the rebellion. A villa would never hold them. They had need of an entire city. And thanks to one of the runaway slaves, Spartacus thought he now knew where that city was located.

To be continued........................


	5. Two Journeys Towards Their Futures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night after the gathering at the House of Cassius is filled with intrigue and odd feelings coming to the surface. But with the dawn comes unwelcome news for the young Roman, Justinus. Similar news awaits the slave, Brion. Are they fated to meet again, and what becomes of it if that happens?
> 
> Meanwhile there is also intrigue and plans being developed in the Rebel encampment. Could this mean that all roads lead to the same end, and the beginning of major changes in the lives of several people?

The garden was breathtaking, with fruit hanging invitingly from heavily laden vines. Birds were heard calling out to one another in a chorus of song. Bees flew from one flower to another, gathering nectar needed to produce sweet honey for the tables of the humans who owned the garden. A large fountain stood nearby, cascading clear water to the basin below. In the center of the fountain stood a statue of Bacchus, God of Wine and Intoxication. Next to that stood a tall, slender man of the finest form, almost godlike in appearance. He held a bunch of dark purple grapes clutched in his hand. He stood naked, with the early morning Sun framing his body, outlining all its perfections. Justinus gasped. The man was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. 

As he watched, the mysterious man lifted his other hand to his mouth. He held a single grape between his fingers. He slowly plopped it into his mouth. He began chewing, letting a tiny trickle of the tart juice escape from the corner of his mouth. His tongue darted out to catch the drop and pull it back inside. His lips, full and inviting, smacked with pleasure. Justinus recognized the man's face but couldn't say the name. Something like a bolt of fear kept him from calling out to the man. He wanted desperately to call the man by his name, but the word would not form in his throat. The man continued to deliver one grape after another into his mouth, his lips smacking with each one. Justinus felt his cock stirring. He wanted to feel those lips on him. He wanted.....

"Son, rouse self. Your father calls for you. Something stirs him before cock's crow this morning. Make haste to see what has pricked him so."

Justinus awoke, startled. His mother stood over him, concern written all over her face. He was disoriented and flushed. He could feel his cock hardened against his belly. He was grateful for the covering of his blanket and nightshirt, which hid his embarrassment. It took a moment to gather himself. He realized he had been dreaming, and it still lingered vividly in his memory. He had been dreaming of the slave named Brion. Perhaps that was why a subtle sense of dread still lingered from the dream. If his father knew he felt an attraction for any male slave, let alone one owned by someone else, he would be infuriated. What's more, if Brion's Dominus knew of it, he had every right to punish his slave if he was of a mind to. Justinus did not know Cassius well enough to be certain how he would react to such knowledge. Besides, the fact that he found Brion attractive did not mean the feeling was reciprocated. Their brief meeting held no special meaning, and yet he had felt a strange connection to the older man. 

Justinus shook his head, as if to wipe away the dream in its entirety. It was obvious that his mother needed him, so he quickly gathered his bedclothes around him and left his bed. Assuring his mother that he would dress with haste and see to his father without delay, Ginevra left her son's room. Justinus did not bother to awaken Ethan in the adjoining room. He was perfectly capable of choosing his clothing and dressing himself, which he did most days anyway. Before he left, he did wake the slave up so that he could begin taking on his daily chores. Justinus knew that his father would punish Ethan severely if he found him sleeping once his son was awake. After that, he hurried out to find his father. Craigh was in his office. His table was cluttered with scrolls and notes. He looked like a man heavy in thought. Justinus stood in the doorway and cleared his throat.

"Ah, there you are, Son. Come... sit. You are of an age where you must take heed of our businesses. On the morrow, we are to travel together. I have important business requiring attention. I took pause in travelling during troubling times, but have been assured chosen destination is safe, and we will not travel alone. I broke words with last night's host. He has similar business and will accompany us on journey."

Justinus was stunned. He knew his father wished for him to inherit all his businesses someday, but he had never made his son privy to any of his dealings up until now. Justinus always believed it was because he showed no interest in the businesses. But now, he could see that his father was only biding his time. His father was ready now... but Justinus was most assuredly not. Yet, he still did not feel strong enough to stand up to his father, so when he was directed to take a seat, he did. The morning hours waned as father proceeded to inform son as to the people he did business with, where they were located, and what kind of dealings he had with them. Slaves brought them food and drink as Craigh continued to school his son on the family business affairs. The sun was high in the sky hours later when Craigh finally released Justinus, telling him to make sure his body slave packed enough to cover a fortnight away from home, and reminding him not to say anything to his mother. Craigh would take care of that.

Justinus walked back to his bedchamber in a daze. He was still uncertain as to his destination. His father outlined more than a dozen different financial pursuits... many of them scattered throughout the provinces. What disturbed him the most was that slavery was one of those financial interests. Craigh was in partnership with more than one slave trader. For some reason, this news bothered Justinus a great deal. He knew of his father's dealings with the import of spices, dyes, and papyrus through the port of Ostia, because he heard his father bragging about it more than once during dinner parties. He knew his father also owned property that produced goods like wool and mutton to sell at markets. He had not known of his father's dealings in slaves too. Another thing he learned was that the family finances were shrinking. The slave rebellion slowed down trade a great deal. The family was far from destitute, but it was obvious Craigh did not like the blow to his income one bit. All he knew about the trip he would begin the next day, was that his father and Cassius were both partnered with the same man of influence and together they planned to discuss how to protect their assets from the rebels. Craigh had decided that it was high time his son became involved with the business too, and his thinking was that first-hand witnessing of strategy was a good place for his son to begin lesson number one in management. There was no joy in the thought at all for Justinus. The only positive thing his father's news did for him was distract him from the dream he woke with in the morning.

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The House of Cassius was in more turmoil than usual. The leftover mess from the night before had barely been cleared away when Cassius called Brion, his body slave and central overseer to his estate, to his side. 

"Brion, set house to order... then give instructions where needed. Prepare for short journey. You will accompany me. I may require your special talents ." 

Brion experienced the now familiar feeling of distaste at what he thought his Dominus was referring to. As always, he let nothing of his repugnance show in his demeanor.

"What clothing do you desire packed, Dominus?"

"Nothing of note. This is business. That is reason for your attendance. We leave at morning light for Sinuessa en Valle... there to meet with Ennuis, Aedile of the city. Little time will be spared for whatever pleasures the city has to offer. The sooner we return to the safety of Rome, the better."

Brion felt relief. Cassius spent less and less time demanding that Brion fulfill his sexual desires and more time taking advantage of his business acumen. Every time Cassius called for one of the younger men to service him, Brion was grateful. He himself occasionally spent time with a few of the other male slaves in the household that desired him, making sure they knew of the dangers if they were ever caught by Cassius. Their fear of severe punishment kept them from clinging to him, which was fine with Brion. He never felt a bond with any of them. Sex with them was no different than sex with Cassius, except for the fact that he chose it rather than it being forced on him. Although he enjoyed sex, he was grateful that there was a chance his Dominus would not have time to bed him on this trip. 

Cassius's voice cut through Brion's thoughts. "Don't stand there with mouth agape like roasted pig. See to necessary duties."

"Yes, Dominus," Brion answered quickly, lowering his head and backing away. 

Brion knew he had much to do before the day ended. He had to make sure the household would run smoothly in his absence. Domina would not be home to supervise, nor the Dominus. Normally, Brion would remain to keep things in order if both were to be gone. Since this was not the case this time, he needed to assign each of the household slaves their tasks so that nothing would go amiss while all authority was absent. Brion had been to Sinuessa before with Cassius and knew that the one-hundred-ninety kilometer journey would take at least four days to complete, and another four days back. If they returned to a house in disarray, everyone, including Brion, would pay dearly. With that thought in mind, he began the job of making sure that everyone knew what was expected of them. Once that was done, he spent the rest of the evening packing trunks with everything he knew Cassius would want or need. Lastly, he did the same for his things, which filled a trunk less than a quarter the size of the Dominus.

Brion finally completed all his work. After seeing to Cassius, he was allowed to leave, retiring to his own small room. Brion was exhausted. It had been a busy day. He fully expected to sleep instantly as his head hit the pillow, a luxury only a few chosen slaves were allowed in the estate. He was surprised to find himself unable to relax enough to fall asleep. He tried to clear his mind of all concerns. It usually helped him on restless nights like this. Brion finally felt himself drifting off, when a sudden image of the young Roman he met the night before crossed his mind. He recalled the young man saying his name was Justinus. 

Brion sat bolt upright in his bed. Of all the people that should come to mind, Justinus was one of the last ones he should be thinking of. He was a Roman, and the son of a man hated by Brion's people. It did not matter one iota that he appeared to be amiable and intelligent. It certainly did not matter that he was extraordinarily attractive either. He could never matter to someone like Brion. They were from two entirely different worlds... two worlds that would never join in any way that was positive or life-affirming. Doing his best to abandon any more thoughts of Justinus, Brion settled back onto his bed. It was difficult, but he finally fell asleep. If he had known what was waiting for him with the rise of the morning Sun, he might not have slept at all.

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Spartacus stood at the table in the center of the main tent used by the rebel leaders as their headquarters. Crixus and Gannicus stood nearby as Spartacus pushed a token, representing the rebel army across the map laid out on the table. The piece landed along the Southern coast, at least six or seven days march from where they were now encamped. Spartacus remembered a city with high walls all around, and the sea at its back being mentioned by one of the escaped slaves named Diotimos. His theory was that moving their ever-growing forces so far away from where they now camped would exhaust the soldiers being sent directly from Rome under the command of Marcus Crassus and diminish their supplies, making them more vulnerable. Protest by Crixus that the rebel forces would be just as exhausted was met with reminders that they would have the entire city to replenish their energy, and protect them from the coming Winter. All he needed was inside information on the defenses of the city, and ways of entering without discovery. 

A moment later, Agron entered the tent. He had Diotimos in hand and pushed him forward. The poor man was nervous, not knowing what the great leader would want from him. Spartacus quickly dispelled his fears. When questioned, the runaway slave informed Spartacus and his Generals of the two gates into the city... the main gate facing away from the sea and the other facing the mountains at their back, which were nearly impassable during the Winter months. The only real problem was getting anyone inside the city, which was vital because it was locked up tight every evening with a thick wooden gate that was heavily guarded all night. The walls were also heavily guarded which made overtaking the city by surprise an impossible task. Even trickier was learning from Diotimos that anyone entering the city had to give over their weapons to the guards, who kept them stored until their owners left. This would prevent any advance infiltrators from using their weapons to overtake the guards at the gate and raise the heavy door to allow entry by the rebel forces. 

They were about to abandon plans for the city, when Gannicus spoke up. After earning his freedom as a gladiator, he had traveled many places, including Sinuessa. There he had become friends with a Roman blacksmith named Attius. With enough coin offered, his friend would forge weapons for any rebel who was able to enter the city without being noticed. When the others expressed doubt because the man was Roman, Gannicus assured them that Attius felt no special loyalty to anything but coin. Their next problem would be in gaining entry to the city. Once again, Diotimos was of help. He gave them the name of his former Dominus so that they could claim a meeting with the man if questioned by the gate guards. His Dominus held some sway within the city. With plans now worked out, all that was left was to set them in motion. 

Agron returned to the tent he shared with his lover, Nasir. Before the meeting ended, Spartacus assigned the task of spreading the word that camp was to break at dawn's light to Agron. His first thought was to enlist Nasir to help him, as no one was better at organization than his beloved Syrian. Spartacus, Gannicus, and Crixus would move more swiftly ahead of all the others, unencumbered by women, children, and the elderly who had joined their cause. The three men would scout the area until they knew that the rest of their people were less than an hour's march away. The three men knew they would have to enter the city in the daytime, but wait until after dark, when the streets were deserted, to attempt to raise the gate. Their people had to be ready to invade the city the moment the gate went up. The only way to take control of the city was to strike fast and hard... any warning quashed before it could be given. 

Nasir arrived to join Agron shortly after. Agron brought him up to date on plans for Sinuessa. The couple got to work immediately, spreading the word quickly among the others. What little property the runaway slaves possessed was gathered together once again and prepared for another move. It was not a thing of joy for many, who found being constantly on the move a strain, but word also spread of where they were going and why. The thought of having an entire city to inhabit, especially with Winter showing its face already, was adequate incentive to keep the grumbling down. Once they completed their job, the couple retired to their own tent together. It took little time for them to prepare everything for departure. They had become skilled at the task since becoming a couple. Once the tent was struck in the morning, they would be on their way at the head of the caravan of people and animals. This was nothing new to them. 

Although picking up stakes and relocating had become second nature to the couple, they still always felt a sense of excitability when it happened. They learned long ago that there was only one way for them to relax enough to sleep through the night. Tonight would be no different. When all but one candle was extinguished and they lay together on their bedding, the lovers did what came naturally to them now. Their bodies were totally in tune with one another. They easily brought each other to such heights of pleasure that the release, when it finally came, drained them of all the nervous energy inside them. When Agron heard Nasir give out a muffled hiss as he let go of his seed, he allowed himself the same luxury, flooding his lover's body with warmth. After, they slept soundly, Agron's arm enfolding Nasir close to his heart in a protective gesture. They had a long journey ahead of them, and hopefully a fully fledged battle at the end of it. They would need all the rest they could get this night.

*****************************************************************

Justinus woke early after another night of restless dreaming. The household was barely stirring as his body slave, Ethan, made certain that everything was ready for their journey. According to Craigh, they were to meet with Cassius and his entourage just outside the city, and they would all travel together in a single band. There was protection in numbers. Both Cassius and Craigh had arranged for ex-soldiers to accompany them as guards, plus they would be joined by several of their slaves to attend to their needs during the trip. Justinus was told that if all went well, and they did not run into any trouble, they would reach their destination within four days time. The young man was grateful. The only time he traveled in the past was during family holidays, often unattended by his father but enjoyed a great deal by his mother. They had visited some of the most popular thermal baths, a luxury only the wealthier could afford. This trip would be nothing like that. He would be fraught with anxiety the entire time, rather than relaxed and pampered.

An hour later, Craigh, Justinus, Ethan, Agape (Craigh's Greek body slave), and two kitchen slaves said their goodbyes and were on their way. Ginevra was not happy to see her only child leaving the safety of Rome, but she knew she had no say in the matter. All she could do was pray to the gods that he would return to her safely. As they left their villa, they were accompanied by a half dozen paid guards, including the driver of their carriage and supply cart. It wasn't long before they spotted the group waiting for them at the beginning of the road they would travel. When Justinus leaned forward to take a peek out the carriage door as his father opened it to greet Cassius, he saw that the boorish man had even more guards... at least ten men in uniforms and a number of slaves traveling by foot. 

The young Roman was about to settle back into his seat when he caught sight of a tall figure coming from around the back of Cassius's carriage. He drew in a sharp breath. It didn't seem possible, but it was indeed the face and figure of the man who had haunted his dreams for two nights running. He had not expected to ever see the slave again. He could not explain it, but he immediately felt flushed, as though he had stepped into one of the hot baths that were so popular. But that feeling was nothing compared to his reaction when the slave, Brion, suddenly looked in his direction and their eyes met. It was less than five seconds before Brion's eyes dropped away, but in that instant Justinus saw something akin to seduction in the man's eyes. Either that, or it was wishful thinking on his part, Justinus decided. He waited to see if Brion would look at him again, but it didn't happen. Brion waited with his back to Craigh's carriage until his Dominus and Craigh finished talking and then took his place in the carriage, following Cassius. When Craigh also returned to his carriage, the small band of travelers began their trek. Justinus's emotions were now in turmoil. He had not wanted to take this trip, but that was before he knew that Brion would be in the party. What would four days passage be like so close to the object of his fascination?

To be continued.........................


	6. Roman Rules, Be Damned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four men, each on the road to the same destination. Two are already very much in love, and facing a dangerous future once they reach their destination. Two have connected, but in a way that has them both confused. Reaching their destination means the end of any chance to invest more of themselves into that connection... or does it? 
> 
> Many thanks to my wonderful beta, Judy, for her help.

The darkness appeared to swallow up the young man. There was not a single bright star blinking or a wedge of moon shining to relieve his pitch-black surroundings. Only the sounds of chickens crammed tightly in their cages, human beings snoring loudly, the dim light from dying fires, and the smell of the mules that pulled the carriages and carts was proof that people were camped just off the main road. Justinus was unable to sleep. The small caravan that he traveled with had been on the road from early morning till after dark, with only short breaks for food, and to stretch tired limbs. His father and Cassius had finally agreed to stop for the night. It was obvious they were in a hurry to get to their destination, but even they were in need of rest... as were the pack animals. Tents went up quickly and food was prepared by the cooks. Cassius and Craigh sat together talking around the campfire, giving no sign that they wanted Justinus to join them. That was fine with the young Roman. They had nothing to say that he cared about hearing. 

Justinus did feel like talking with someone, but unfortunately for him it wasn't anyone who was free to carry on a conversation with him. During their brief stops, he found himself having difficulty ignoring Cassius's slave, Brion's, close proximity. Brion stuck closely behind Cassius at all times. Justinus understood it. Ethan was forced to do the same for him, just as Agape had to do for Craigh. As body slaves, all three men had to be ready to jump at any command their Masters gave them. Ethan was the only one of the three who seldom received orders. Justinus was born into his privileged position, but he was never comfortable with it. Now, more than anything, he wished he had someone intelligent to talk with. They had at least three more full days of traveling ahead of them. He didn't know how he was going to endure the interminable hours in the company of people he hated or didn't like. He had walked away from the camp, into the dark, just so he could get away to be by himself. All but two of their guards slept, and neither of them saw fit to stop him. They were getting paid to keep predators out, not their employers in.

Justinus sat against a large boulder gazing into the blackened sky. It was rare for it to be so dark. Strangely enough, he didn't feel any fear. There was no way of knowing if wild animals rested nearby. There was no way to tell if there were unfriendly humans just waiting for the chance to rob a rich caravan. Even though no one thought any of the rebels were close by, there was also no way of knowing if they were being watched by a band of them too. Yet, the young Roman didn't really care. Nothing out in the dark could be any worse than what, or who, was waiting back in camp. As he sat there, however, he was beginning to realize that there was one thing he hadn't counted on when he left the safety of the campsite. The air at night turned quite chilly, and the robe he wrapped himself in before leaving camp was no longer keeping him comfortably warm. Whether he liked it or not, he was going to be forced to return to camp, and the comfort of his tent. Sighing deeply, Justinus started to rise. As he got to his feet, he heard a twig snap and the heavy sound of breathing.

"Who goes there?" he asked nervously.

"Apologies," came a familiar voice. "I've now made habit, intruding on valued privacy."

Justinus breathed a sigh of relief. He still couldn't clearly see the tall, shadowy figure in front of him...yet he was certain who stood there. 

"You go by the name of Brion, if memory serves properly...slave to Cassius?"

"I bear said name and position. And you are son to Craigh, the Celtic Roman?"

"It is my burden to bear such title."

"Burden? Strange words from one enjoying such vaunted position in life."

"Let not trappings of wealth and position fool the mind. What the eye sees is not always truth. Pretty wrappings disguise ugly gifts on occasion."

As Justinus spoke, his teeth began chattering. The cold night air was getting to him. Brion recognized the sound. His eyes had also adjusted to the dark enough to see the slender body of the young Roman slightly shaking.

"Again, apologies. You are cold, and I delayed your return to camp. I carry a flask of wine and extra blanket, brought to keep me warm whilst I ponder life's meaning alone in the dark. Would you share offered comfort with me? Or I can see you safely back to camp, if that is desire."

Justinus's first reaction was to leave, and let Brion have his privacy. He knew it was unwise to risk being found so far from camp with another man's slave. Yet, the idea of getting to know Brion better was too enticing to ignore. This man... this slave had already intrigued him to the point of distraction. Justinus wanted to know why he had such an effect on him. Making his decision, he sat back down with his back to the boulder and patted the ground beside him. Brion did not hesitate. He squatted down and came to rest right next to Justinus. He opened up the blanket he'd brought and spread it over their shoulders so that they both were covered from the neck down. Justinus immediately felt warmer and more comfortable. Brion brought out the wine so that they both could take a drink. It tasted wonderful, and obviously was of the best quality... not surprising, considering the man who had bought it. Justinus was aware that Brion, if caught, would probably be punished for taking the wine if he hadn't received permission to do so. He suspected that Brion hadn't sought permission either. There was something daring about the man, even though Justinus was aware he barely knew anything about him. It was simply a feeling he got when around Brion.

"I would ask if Cassius approved removal of his wine by your hand tonight, but in truth I care not. We have more need of it than he, I'm sure. By sight of heavy wagon, I suspect the man is well supplied and can spare a little."

"Brave words from one so young."

"I'm no child," Justinus bristled.

"Apologies again. Offence was not intended. Young does not imply childishness. I do not see a child when my eyes fall upon you."

Justinus caught a hint of something in the way that Brion said that last part, but he could not be sure of its meaning. Better to let it lie, he decided. For almost an hour the two men sat close together, sharing warmth and conversation. It became clear that neither man was in a hurry to part ways, and yet the dawn would soon come. They knew it would be unwise to stay away from camp any longer. They finally agreed it was time to leave. Justinus was the first to make his way back to their campsite, again being ignored by the sleepy guard on duty. Brion returned the same way he had left, sneaking back through bushes behind the tent shared with the other slaves. All were still sound asleep, just as Craigh was in the tent he shared with his son. As the two men settled down to get a few more hours of sleep before camp would break in the morning, they thought about their exchanges. They had learned a lot about each other, and the one thing they discovered most was that each thought the other intelligent, witty, and likable. What they both also discovered, but did not say to one another, was they also found each other desirable. 

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Nasir stood guard on the flanks of the campsite with his ears finely tuned for the slightest sounds or movements. He wasn't alone, as it was customary for guard duty to always be in pairs. Often Agron would be with him on guard duty at night, but he'd chosen to pair up with another of the rebels and take to the front of their encampment. He trusted no one as much as himself and Nasir to keep their people safe. Nasir suspected that he was also thinking they would both be less sidetracked if they weren't together. It was easy to recall at least once when they let their closeness distract them from guard duty. Spartacus had not been too happy with them over that incident, especially when it almost cost the life of their prisoner, Illythia. Their movement towards Sinuessa en Valle, the coastal city they hoped to wrest control of once they arrived, was slow going because of their charges. Many of the rebellious slaves that had joined with them were little more than simple folk with no training at all in fighting... many not even out of childhood yet, or long past the age for warfare. Spartacus welcomed them all. Each day, however, did bring them closer to their goal. Once they got there, Spartacus, Gannicus, and Crixus would be ready for them.

Lugo, another of the Germanic warriors who had joined the rebellion, once he was freed by Spartacus and Agron, stretched his powerful arms out and yawned. He was built like a solid boulder. Like Nasir, he was shorter in height than most, but he was extremely strong, with thick muscles. He and Nasir had become fast friends after a rocky beginning. The two men often enjoyed each other's company now. Lugo felt the call of Nature and stepped over to a nearby bush to relieve his aching bladder. When he returned to his post a few yards from Nasir, the Syrian laughed under his breath.

"Share amusement, so both can break monotony with giggles," Lugo demanded.

"I do not giggle," Nasir protested. "Yet amusement can be found in timing of piss. Perhaps Lugo's bladder holds storage of fabled camel's hump."

"Lugo's bladder, cock, and balls match size of elephant... not puny camel, like Syrian I have acquaintance with."

"No need for bragging on my part. Break words with Agron, if thought turns to this Syrian's inadequacies. I will let him speak for me." 

Nasir's voice held amusement. He and Lugo were comfortable trading barbs on occasion, especially to lighten their moods. A night like this required a little humor. They still had a long journey ahead of them and many helpless people to be responsible for. One thing their rebellion did not need was the loss of any of their forces, whether well-trained or not. It was even more important now that their numbers swell, rather than decrease, since word came that they would soon face the trained forces of Marcus Crassus. There were times when Nasir allowed himself the realization that he and Agron would probably not live a long life together. When those moments came, he never felt anger or fear at the probable prospect. What he did feel was enormous sadness. His love for Agron was a living, breathing entity, more powerful than all the gods worshiped by men. The idea that he would not have countless years to bask in their relationship was painful for Nasir. He never knew the gods of his own people and was not so sure that any of the other gods were real, but he prayed he would be reunited with Agron in the afterlife. It was that hope that kept him grounded.

Daylight began to peek its way past the gloom of an unusually dark night finally. They were joined by several trained ex-gladiators who would now be in charge of guarding the rear as the caravan proceeded on to their next encampment. Lugo and Nasir met up with the others who had stood guard duty during the night. They would ride in a few of the covered wagons interspersed throughout the long line of travelers to get some much needed rest before the mid-morning meal. Nasir's face lit up with a smile when he saw Agron approaching. They quickly kissed, as was their custom after any separation, whether short or long. Everyone else already knew their responsibilities for safe passage for the troops as a whole. They were expertly honed from months of maneuvers just like this one. It allowed Agron to relax a little bit. Agron and Nasir climbed into the lead wagon, and another day's move began. The couple drank deeply from their water skins, taken off defeated Roman soldiers in a previous campaign. They divided a chunk of bread and the remains of a roasted chicken prepared by early risers for the morning meal. They then settled down in the well of the wagon, wrapped in a single blanket. There were many more days of this routine ahead of them, but they expected the reward at the end to be worth any discomfort experienced for the time being.

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The second and third days on the road to Sinuessa was no different than the first for the weary travelers in Cassius and Craigh's little caravan. There were no incidents to threaten anyone's safety, which was appreciated by masters and slaves alike. Though no one spoke of it out loud, there was always the fear that the slave rebels might be nearby, despite reassurances that they were nowhere near the same vicinity. Naturally the Romans feared such a thing, but so did their slaves. They knew that they would probably be murdered by their own masters, rather than be allowed to live to join up with the rebels, once freed by them. Thankfully, the travelers moved along peacefully, if somewhat boringly. 

Justinus spent a lot of his time sound asleep in the carriage with his father. His reason was twofold. First, he had nothing to say to Craigh. They barely communicated with one another at home. Being forced to share a confined space for so many hours did not change that dynamic at all. He was grateful that his father didn't seem any more interested in speaking with him than he was with his father. His second reason was that he was simply dead tired. Only one person knew that he was awake most of the night, every night. Justinus was extremely grateful when Craigh finally decided on the third day that he was fed up with the lack of stimulating conversation. He chose to join Cassius in his carriage for most of that day and the next. He learned from Brion that they spent all those hours talking about business and their concerns over the slave rebellion, for the most part.

Justinus learned a lot from Brion after that first night of encampment. They repeated their escapade all three nights that followed the first one. They waited until deep into the night, when everyone but the few guards were sound asleep, and then met as far from the campsite as possible without risking getting lost. Luckily for them, the last three nights were nothing like the first one. The sky was filled with stars, and there were no thick clouds blocking the moon's light as before. Each time they got together, they found a comfortable place to settle, using a blanket that Brion always brought to keep themselves warm. They talked about everything... everything except the growing feelings that each was experiencing. They talked of politics, art, travels... even their families, although Brion never mentioned that he was from the same part of the world that Craigh came from originally. 

Brion was aware that there was no love lost between Justinus and his father, but he wasn't prepared to reveal that he knew first-hand what the man's guilty past was. He had no way of knowing if Justinus even knew anything about his father's history. If he didn't, Brion wasn't going to be the one to tell him. Inexplicably, he felt a certain protectiveness towards the young Roman. He really didn't understand it. The only person he ever felt that he needed to protect was himself, before now. It was a strange thing, because if anyone would need protection if they were caught during these late-night sojourns together, it would be he and not Justinus. And as for the young Roman's feelings... well, that was even harder for Brion to fathom. Why he cared whether Justinus would be hurt knowing of his father's sins was a complete mystery to Brion. He had never cared about the feelings of anyone else before... not even the majority of his lost family, who never demonstrated any belief in his worth when he was young. Brion, however, had to accept it. In a matter of days, he had come to care about another human being. It was a scary thought, but there was no denying it. Still, Brion knew that their friendship couldn't lead to anything long-term. The best they could do was enjoy what little time they had together now. Once they were back home in Rome, they would see each other seldom, if ever. Romans and slaves did not mix, unless in the same household. Those were the rules they lived by.

Unbeknownst to Brion, Justinus was feeling the same turmoil inside his head. He had once felt a strong fondness for Ethan, his body slave, but that faded eventually. He still cared about his childhood companion, but the connection they once had no longer felt like a part of his world. Now, however, he was feeling an even stronger connection to a different slave... a man totally different from Ethan in so many ways. Despite the fact that Brion was also a slave, and appeared subservient on the surface (as did Ethan), Justinus sensed there was a strong independent soul inside that Brion kept well hidden. In another time and place, Justinus was convinced that Brion would be a leader among men... that men would take orders from him, rather than the other way around. The young Roman loved that quality in Brion. He respected Brion for that as well as his intelligence. All this, however, was not the source of his disquiet. It was his physical, not emotional responses to Brion that caused him agitation. He wasn't totally naive. He knew what he really wanted. He also knew it was a crazy desire. He told himself he had to get control of those feelings... for Brion's sake as much as his own.

"The hour grows late."

Brion's voice broke the silence they had fallen into. The couple had already been away from their camp for several hours, and it was time to go back. The morning would see the start of their final day on the road. Before evening fell again, they would be safely within the walls of Sinuessa... and probably forced to stay apart until the journey back to Rome.

"If the gods would allow it, I would stop the Sun from rising. I would break words with you for countless hours longer, if they would but grant my wish. The rules we must live by is shit from the mouths of imbeciles and hypocrites," Justinus cried out, angrily.

"Your words warm heart, yet it is the world we live in. We must return. I will not die for an impossible wish, absent any chance of fulfillment.

Brian hated himself for the look on Justinus's face at that moment. He did not want to end their night any more than the young man did, but he was a realist. He knew he had to be strong for the both of them. He jumped up from the ground and put out both his hands to help Justinus to his feet. The moment Justinus was standing, he started to pull away, but Brion held on. The two men stood facing each other. Later on, neither man could recall who moved first. One second, they were staring into each other's eyes... the next, their lips met. The kiss only lasted seconds, but their hearts were beating faster than ever before. They smiled at each other. It was a tentative, nervous kind of smile... ones given by men unsure of what would happen next. Then it did happen. Brion let go of Justinus's hands and wrapped him in his arms instead. He pulled Justinus against his body and kissed him hard, forcing his lips to part to allow their tongues to meet. Justinus melted against Brion's strong frame. He could barely breathe, but he would not have pulled away from the kiss if his life depended on it. 

The cold of the night was forgotten in the heat of their untapped passion. It shocked them with the intensity they felt. Sometime later they would ask themselves what spurred them to such a surprising turn of events, but it didn't matter why at this moment in time. Whether it was regret at not being able to spend any time with each other again until the journey home, and then probably never again after that, or whether it was simply the Fates playing games with them... the reason why they fell into each other's arms mattered little. What did matter was that they now knew where they stood. They both wanted the same thing. They wanted each other. And tonight they would risk more than they ever had before in their lives. Tonight they would take what they wanted from each other, and the rules be damned... either the rules, or they would be damned.

To be continued..............


	7. A Costly Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brion and Justinus have fallen in love, but being in Sinuessa has prevented any chance to enjoy each other's company. And now they learn their visit there will be extended, making them even more miserable. Then a plan to bring them together is set in motion... which sets in motion far more than they had counted on. But is the activity outside the city gates going to save or destroy them?

Brion felt fear gripping his guts, but nothing was going to stop him. How could he stop, now that he'd had a taste of Justinus? He forced himself to concentrate on his memory from three nights before. He knew he would have the courage he needed if he just kept reliving that brief hour. It all started with that kiss. He had met with Justinus on that final night of their journey to Sinuessa with no intention of doing anything more than having an enjoyable conversation with the Roman lad. That was all they had done the previous three nights. This night, however, was different. They were both caught off-guard by a kiss that just seemed to happen... without planning, as if the Fates were pulling their strings. Whether it was their own doing, or the gods were playing games with them, they delighted in the feeling the kiss gave them. Neither man pulled away from what was happening. Actually, instead of running to the safety of the rules they had always lived by, they happily broke the cardinal rule forbidding relations between a Roman and another man's slave, without his express permission. 

Even now Brion could feel and taste Justinus. Rather than returning to camp with barely more than an hour before daybreak, the couple began removing their clothing, oblivious to the chill night air. They had little on, so it only took seconds to be as naked as the day they were born. Each stood admiring the other's form, taking in the beauty they saw before them. Brion pulled the blanket back around their bodies, drawing them close together. He bent his head and captured Justinus's lips for the second time. He was gentler this time, slowly working his lips to gain entry for his tongue to taste his lover's mouth. Justinus let out a tiny whimper. He let his arms wrap around Brion's waist, his hands grabbing the taller man's firm buttocks. Brion felt his cock spring to life full force. He had never felt this aroused so quickly before. He deserted Justinus's mouth so that he could taste more of this magnificent creature he held in his arms. He nibbled gently and licked at all the tiny nooks and crannies of the young man's jawline, throat, neck, and shoulders. Justinus threw his head back, giving Brion better access for his attentions. Brion was happy to oblige.

The lovers sank to the ground as one. Justinus stretched out prone on the large blanket. Brion took up a position on his knees, encasing Justinus's legs between his own. His mouth went to work again, tasting the sweet flesh of Justinus's chest. He sucked on his lover's nipples, taking each in turn between his teeth and biting down gently until he heard Justinus draw in his breath sharply. Justinus began to squirm. All the sensations Brian wrested from him were beginning to drive him mad with desire. He felt cheated. He wanted to taste the same pleasures as Brion. His fingers had been tweaking Brion's nipples all the while his own body was being assaulted so deliciously, but now his hands moved down to a far more enticing target. Brion's engorged cock lay like a rock-hard pillar against Justinus's groin. The sensation of Brion's manhood resting on his own sent shivers along his spine. Justinus grabbed a handful of the beautiful prize, along with his own. He roused them both even further than they already were, pumping them together as a single unit. Brion's breathing became labored with the effort to delay his release. 

"Cease arousal, or I shall be lost," Brion begged, his hand reaching to still Justinus's movements.

Justinus rose up on his elbows. "You tire of me so quickly?"

Brion fell upon Justinus's lips again, kissing him with fierce determination.

"My desire does not wane. It is more powerful than common sense demands. I want to possess you fully, young Roman, but have no wish to cause you pain."

Justinus suddenly thought he understood. Brion probably believed him to be a virgin. He was unaware of the past relationship he shared with his own body slave, Ethan. This was no time to be coy. He knew what he needed from Brion, just as he was aware that Brion wanted to provide for his needs.

"The road you wish to travel has been visited before. I spoke truth when saying I was no child. I've not spoken of this with any other, but my heart is open to your scrutiny. Do you still claim desire for me, knowing this?"

Brion's eyes took in the youthful face below him. Justinus had an innocence about him that translated into a virginal being. Brion hesitated for a moment. What if the young man was only claiming experience in order to avoid scaring him away from going too far? But in the next moment, he knew it didn't matter. One thing he was certain of, Justinus wanted him as much as he wanted Justinus. He would move carefully, but he would take the young Roman as his own this very night whether he be truly virgin or not. Brion changed his position, setting first one knee and then the other between Justinus's legs.

"Spread legs and lift them. I have no oil to ease way, but I would have you well prepared to lessen discomfort."

It was all Justinus wanted to hear. He spread his legs out, bending them at the knees. He lifted his buttocks so that Brion could easily take control of the portal to his body. Brion slathered the entryway with spit, breaching it with one, then two, then three fingers until he felt the muscles relaxing. He quickly saw that Justinus was honest with him. His reactions to Brion's ministrations were not those of someone untouched. He knew what he was doing, and what was being done to him. And he was loving every second of it. When Brion was certain Justinus was ready for him, he placed his manhood where his fingers had been. He lingered there for a minute, watching Justinus's face. Justinus grabbed Brion's thighs, urging him on. Brion bent down and kissed Justinus softly... then he took him, an inch at a time. Each inch was punctuated with deeper kisses. Justinus moaned into Brion's mouth. When Brion was completely seated inside, he paused. The lovers kissed many more times, then they began a rhythm... a dance as old as time. Like waves on a beach, Brion rode the tide in and out, over and over again. Justinus felt his body reacting to every movement, straining towards something earth shattering, but still just out of reach. Brion's heart beat like a mad drummer inside his chest, as he felt his body growing tenser with each thrust into the heart of his exquisite lover.

They stifled the sounds of their lovemaking, fearful of discovery, but they could not stifle their emotions. For each, this didn't feel like something familiar. This was on a level unlike anything they had experienced before. They were not just making love with their bodies, but with their hearts. When the pressure built to its apex, they came together in a single blinding flash, spilling their seed at the same time. Brion fell exhausted onto Justinus's tired body. He gathered the young Roman's head in his hands and buried his face in his neck, his rapid breaths tickling Justinus's skin. They lay like that for what seemed forever, until the cold and lightening sky roused them from their lethargy. They both knew that they had tempted fate, and would be discovered if they did not return to camp right away. Regretfully, they used leaves to clean themselves as best they could and quickly threw their clothes back on. By some miracle, they both made it safely back to their tents without incident. Their only regret was that they had no time to talk about what had just happened. It was their last night of encampment. The next evening saw them all safely within the walls of Sinuessa. Now, three days later, they still hadn't had the chance to talk without risking exposure. The most they could share were glances... but those said a lot. Their eyes spoke a language no one else could understand. But this afternoon, Brion was determined to meet with Justinus privately. They had been told that their stay would be longer than expected and they wouldn't be on the road back to Rome for at least another week. Brion couldn't wait that long to spend alone time with Justinus again. He had a plan. All he could do was pray that it worked.

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Agron scanned the valley on the other side of the high hills surrounding the coastal city of Sinuessa en Valle. Nasir stood close beside him. Lugo, Naevia, and Saxa were only a few feet away from the couple. He saw the mass of humanity gathered below where they stood, all waiting for the sun to finally set. Some of their people fidgeted nervously in fear of what was coming. Others were fatalistic about their futures. They already knew they had cast their lot with Spartacus and could never go back to their old lives. Most had no desire to, even if death was their reward for the choices they had made. All were anxious for this night to be over. By the time the Sun rose to lighten the skies again, they would either be living in relative comfort and safety or lie dead or captured within the walls of the city. Now they waited. Agron would give them word of when to move towards the city gates as soon as he heard from Crixus. No one knew the fate of their leaders, who were already within the city walls. They had no choice, however, but to be patient. No move could be made without word from the men inside. Agron turned back to scour the area around the large city. Suddenly, the sound from the massive gate, guarding the city, could be heard carried on the wind from below. It was being slowly lowered for the night. 

"The gate lowers before disgorging Crixus," Nasir told Agron, nervously. "What purpose have we without knowledge of their fates?"

Agron was about to answer when he spotted movement half way down the side of the hill. 

"Hold concern and still voice," he ordered, squatting low to the ground and pulling Nasir down with him. "Someone comes this way."

Nasir peeked over the edge of the embankment of the hill. Sure enough, he could see that a figure was climbing towards the very spot they stood at. In case the figure belonged to a straggler taking the wrong way home from the city, both men had their weapons firmly in hand. They did not have long to wait before they finally recognized the muscular form of their compatriot, Crixus. He had apparently left the city in the company of others, avoiding being spotted by Agron or Nasir, who were on the lookout for a single man. By the time Crixus's face appeared over the ridge, he was out of breath from the long climb. Catching his breath quickly, he first embraced Naevia and then turned to the others. He made short work informing them of the progress of their scouting efforts within the city. He told them of their success in getting help from the Roman, Attius, in forging swords to replace ones turned in upon entry at the gate. He let them know of the plans Spartacus devised for raising the gate. All they had to do now was slip down the hill under cover of darkness, undetected, so that they would be ready to enter the city the moment the gate lifted. When Crixus finished, they joined the others and quickly spread word of their coming movements. Everyone knew what was expected of them. They were prepared to move as silently as snakes slithering through underbrush, to reach their destination as soon as the order was given. It was now simply a matter of time.

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Ennius's property was vast. He owned several houses, all clustered together on top of the low cliff facing the sea on one side and the city on the other. The largest building was his own private residence, shared with his wife, Laeta. Another one was a storehouse where various kinds of supplies were kept. Another smaller building housed his private office. There was another small building that housed new slaves until they were deemed fit for the duties they were purchased for. It also contained a couple of rooms used for slaves being punished for their crimes. His compound also had two buildings built exactly like his residence, only much smaller. Both were used as guest houses for visiting dignitaries, friends, business acquaintances, and family. Both of these houses were now being occupied... one by Cassius and his people, the other by Craigh and his. It was there that Brion hoped to find Justinus alone for the first time since they had arrived in Sinuessa.

Brion had been on the lookout for his chance the moment Cassius told him of a meeting at Ennuis's office at the docks this very afternoon after the midday meal. He expected Brion to accompany him, but Brion had other plans. Almost immediately after the meal, Brion made certain that Cassius was nearby when he began vomiting profusely. His skin was cold and clammy and his face an ashen color. He was a learned man, who knew exactly what kind of plant he needed to ingest in order to disrupt his digestive system temporarily. Making certain to ingest a safe amount of the toxic plant, which would give him the appearance of a very sick man, probably suffering from food poisoning, and yet not make him ill for long, Brion set his plan in motion. He already knew that Justinus would not be attending the meeting with Cassius and Craigh. He had overheard Justinus telling his father that he was suffering a terrible headache right after their morning meal, held in the great dining hall of Ennuis's home. Craigh was obviously angry at his son for missing another of their business meetings, the second one so far, but relented. He knew he still had a week to teach his son lessons on how to conduct business.

For Brion, Justinus's headache was welcome news. It meant that he would stay inside the small house they occupied next to the one Brion stayed in with Cassius. A short path between the two buildings connected the two abodes, with an entryway for each. Brion knew that all the servants in both houses should be either napping, working, or with their Dominus. If he was right, Justinus would be either alone or with his body slave. It was a chance he was willing to take. After the entourage, consisting of Cassius, Craigh, and several of Ennuis's slaves to accompany and guide his guests, had left to meet with the man himself, Brion stood by waiting. He didn't want to rush next door too quickly, in case someone forgot something and returned unexpectedly. It wasn't easy being patient. Eventually, Brion could not wait any longer. He gathered his courage and left the safety of his own room to cross the barrier between he and his lover.

Justinus sat on the cushions of the couch in the room assigned to him by his father. He was feeling morose, but not from the imaginary headache he claimed to endure. His normal cheerfulness was gone. He hated being with his father on this trip. The only blessing had been the time he was able to spend with the slave, Brion. That tiny glimmer of happiness ended the moment they entered the city walls of Sinuessa. Here, the two of them were kept apart, even though they were only yards from each other. Brion had been kept busy by his work for his Dominus, while Justinus stayed busy doing his best to avoid working with his father. Of course he caught glimpses of Brion during meals when they all got together in their host's dwelling. Those sightings only made Justinus long for Brion's touch more than he ever thought possible. It was almost worse seeing him those few times, because he knew that was all he would have. He had sunk even deeper into a depression when he learned they would extend their stay in the city by a week. He had been holding on to the knowledge that they could renew their late-night trysts on the way back to Rome, and now that was delayed. Justinus was miserable. He wouldn't even let Ethan stay in his room. He wanted to see nobody... nobody but Brion.

As if the gods had heard his wish and decided to grant it, Justinus heard footsteps approaching his room. Moments later he heard a soft knock on the outside wall where heavy curtains provided privacy to his room. His first thought was that his father had returned, or Ethan wanted entry to give him a message from his father. Neither thought was welcome. The knock came again, but this time he heard a voice calling his name... a most welcome sound to gladden his heart. 

"Enter!" he called out.

Justinus heart quickened. Any fears he should have had over what could happen to either of them if they were caught, vanished before they formed. Seeing Brion part the curtains and step through them was exactly what he had hoped for. In an instant, he was wrapped in Brion's arms.

"Apologies, Justinus. My head knows the risk I take for both our sake's, but my heart cared not. If it is your will that I turn back, I will do so immediately."

"Turn from me, and my heart shall cease its beating," Justinus answered. 

He pulled Brion's head down so that he could reach the lips he'd dreamed about for three days and nights. Their kiss was only the start of a fire that burned like the lava of an erupting volcano. They could no more stop themselves from making love again than they could stop the tides from rising and falling on the shores. When their passion was spent, they rested peacefully in each other's arms and talked of a life unfettered by rules and class divisions... of a life far away where no one knew of their past. As the hours passed, they talked on and on, never tiring of hearing each other's voices or thoughts. Then they made love again, and without expecting it, they fell asleep holding tight to each other. They were blissfully unaware when the Sun began to set, or that Ennuis, Cassius, and Craigh had returned to the estate, as all citizens must when the gate was lowered and the entire city was on lockdown during these troubling times with the rebels on the loose. They slept on, not knowing that the three businessmen had gone straight to Ennuis's office to further discuss their affairs and share cups of wine while waiting for the evening meal to be ready. They knew nothing when Ethan appeared at the door of Justinus's room and called out to him.

"Dominus, your father has returned. Have you need of my help before the supper hour?"

When he got no answer, Ethan felt concern, knowing that Justinus was unwell earlier in the day. He quietly pulled the heavy doorway curtain aside. His loud gasp of surprise woke the sleeping lovers. Brion and Justinus sprung up from the bed and faced their intruder. Ethan backed up, entangling himself in the thick cloth and nearly losing his balance.

"Apologies, Dominus! I did not know!" Ethan's voice was full of distress.

"Ethan, Enter!" Justinus ordered. "I will answer the concerns your eyes have forced upon you."

It was not an easy task for Justinus to explain his relationship with Brion to Ethan. His childhood companion knew him better than anyone, but he had no clue that Justinus had another lover, least of all another slave. Even less believable was the fact it was a slave from a different household. Ethan now understood why Justinus no longer wanted to share his bed with him. He felt a pang of jealousy, but far more distressing was the fear of someone else finding out their secret. Without thinking about his place, and with anxiety coloring his tone, Ethan responded to his master by reverting to their old familiar ways. 

"Apologies for my words, Justinus, but your father's wrath will know no boundaries. Forgiveness might never come if he learns of this. Have such thoughts not given you cause for discretion?" He then turned to Brion, who had quickly redressed in his subligaria and now stood next to his lover. "And you, slave, care you not for my Master's well being... or your own life?"

Brion's hand rested on Justinus's shoulder as he sat on the disheveled bed, too stunned by the turn of events to move.

"I care for nothing more than his well being. The mistake was mine. I will take my leave quickly. None shall be the wiser. Only your loosened tongue can betray us now," Brion challenged.

"Best you slip from sight like the ghosts of ancient dead, or forfeit your life. My life also hangs in balance over my knowledge. My tongue will remain silent."

Justinus finally found his strength returning, his fears for Brion's safety filling him with purpose. He rose from the bed and wrapped his arms around Brion's neck pulling his face down to him.

"Leave us now, Brion. Ethan is friend to me. He will not betray us, in word or deed."

The lovers frowned. This was not how they wanted to end their evening together. They began to kiss... one last kiss to hold them until they could be together again. It was a mistake. Without warning, the curtains were parted again, and this time Craigh stood there. He pushed Ethan out of his way. He was used to shoving slaves aside if they blocked his view. He was in a hurry to see if his son had improved enough to join them for supper. He was about to inquire into Justinus's health, when he stopped dead in his tracks. The sight before him was beyond his imagination! His son stood in the embrace of Cassius's slave, their lips upon one another! Craigh's face turned purple. Rage, as he had never experienced before, boiled inside him. He turned on his heel without a word and rushed from the room. The Roman, and two slaves left behind, felt as though the earth had opened up and dropped them into a deep hole. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and nowhere safe. The world they had known was over.

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Justinus blanched. With each blow of the whip on Brion's back, his heart stopped. He wanted to faint so that the images would disappear, but fate was not so kind. Ethan had already been whipped so many times that he was hanging on to life by the most slender of threads. Justinus was spared the whip, but his father had beat him until he bled, his mouth swollen, and an eye puffed almost to closing. But that was not as bad as watching Brion's suffering. He would have gladly taken Brion's whiplashes for himself if he could have. Yet Justinus knew this was not their worst punishment. When Craigh returned to his room with Cassius and guards in tow, the two men announced that the whip was only a taste of their punishment. The two slaves would be crucified in the town square in the morning as a warning to other slaves who thought they could indulge in breaking the rules of their masters. As for Justinus, he would be returned home in shame immediately, after being forced to witness the event, and stripped of his position as heir to the family fortunes. Craigh took sick pleasure in telling his son that he would return to Rome later, set aside his wife, and remarry in hopes of being provided a new heir. 

Brion felt the lash bite deeply into the skin on his naked back one last time as blessed darkness overcame him. As he slipped into unconsciousness, he felt a momentary sense of satisfaction. His mouth ached from clenching his teeth so hard they almost cracked, but he had never let a scream escape from him. Going second before the lash was meant to instill terror in him as he watched the young Ethan suffering blow after blow, each one wrenching more blood-curdling screams from the innocent bystander as they fell. What his tormentors hadn't considered was that the guard who was tasked with meting out the punishment would grow slightly weaker with each blow. Fearing for himself, the guard put on a good show of striking hard, but each lash was a tiny bit less forceful than the one before. The guard was grateful when Brion finally passed out. His arm fell gladly to his side as he stepped away from the dangling body.

"Not such a pretty sight any longer?" Craigh sneered at his son.

A guard held tight to Justinus's arms, forcing him to face the center of the room where the lashing was being meted out. There was dried blood throughout the area where the two posts stood rooted to the floor of the tiny room. It was obvious the room was used for this same purpose many times before. Justinus felt his hatred for his father grow like a cancer in his soul. He would have gladly plunged a knife into Craigh's heart if he could have at that moment. All he could do was stand helplessly by as Cassius and his father ordered the three guards in the room to remove Brion, Ethan, and himself to another room to await morning light. He was led away by his guard, followed by the other two guards dragging the unconscious bodies of the two slaves. They were thrown unceremoniously into an even smaller room with locked bars to keep them in. The guards gave the three men one final look of disdain and walked away. 

Justinus hurried over to Brion's side and fell to his knees. Gathering Brion's head in his lap, he let the tears flow as he stroked his lover's matted hair. He remained like this for some time. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, Brion began to stir. He groaned... a welcome sound to Justinus, proving his lover still lived... and slowly opened his eyes. His vision cleared, and he saw Justinus staring down at him, fear and worry contorting his beautiful face. He moved like a man of ancient years, each gesture causing him to wince in pain. He was finally able to sit upright with Justinus's help. The room they were in was devoid of all furnishings, with not even a rag to staunch the trickling blood slowly caking on Brion's back. Brion gently touched Justinus's swollen cheek. 

"He hurt you!"

"Gods, Brion! My injuries are of no consequence. They've ripped flesh from back, and yet thought turns to me? I vow to the gods, I will kill him someday for what he has done this night."

"I still breathe, nor did they break me. But what of your body slave? He took brunt of the guard's strength."

It was the first time Justinus thought of Ethan. His anguish over Brion's suffering had consumed him. He now crawled over to the corner where Ethan lay in a heap on the floor. He turned his childhood companion over. Ethan did not appear to be breathing. He bent an ear to Ethan's chest. He heard nothing. He placed his hand over Ethan's mouth and nose. He felt nothing. Ethan's eyes were open, but Justinus saw no life in them. He slowly closed his old friend's eyelids. There would be no crucifixion for Ethan. The whip had done its job. The slave was dead. Justinus laid Ethan's head carefully back down to the ground.

"Farewell, dear friend. I will carry the guilt of your passing to my grave. You did not deserve such a fate, but it will be avenged," he whispered.

Justinus crawled back to Brion, who opened his arms to gather the stricken lad into what little comfort he could offer him. There was little they could say to each other now. The night would be long, with only another death waiting for them in the morning. Justinus wished they would take his life too. But he knew all he could do was live so that he could keep his promise to avenge the death of the man he cared for like a brother, and the man he loved more than his own life. Once that was done, he would find a way to join Brion in the afterlife, if the Fates so chose for him.

Yet as they sat in the darkening room while the hour grew later, they were unaware that Fate had other plans for them both... plans that would alter their life beyond their imagining. 

To be continued.........


	8. One Man's Death Means Another Man's Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sinuessa is about to explode in an orgy of violence and retribution. How does this affect Brion, Justinus, and so many others? Will the lovers survive to love again, and if they do...how will they manage it. And will their survival affect another couple some day? That is a question to be answered later, but first they must meet each other. A lot will happen on this singular night. And so it begins.

Agron, Nasir, Crixus, and all the others who waited in shadow outside the walls of Sinuessa, kept their ears sharpened for the sound of activity on the other side. Crixus reported earlier that Spartacus and Gannicus would make an attempt to raise the gate to the city, or die trying. All the other rebels had only one job to do, and that was to be prepared to storm the gate the moment it trembled from solid ground. All they needed was a small opening to give them a fighting chance of over-running the entire city. Agron draped his arm over Nasir's shoulder. Nasir held tight to his spear in one hand, his other resting against Agron's thigh. Both warriors needed this brief touch, knowing that this night could be their last together. They never went into battle with the fear of death at the forefront of their thoughts, but it always lurked in the background of their minds. They had shared their love for each other the previous night before arriving at this destination, but now they were all business... no matter what the cost might be.

The bulk of their forces were now within hearing distance of the city walls, from one side to the other of the huge gate that protected its citizens within. This is why, some hours after Crixus had joined them, disturbing noises finally could be heard coming from within the massive structure. The unmistakable sounds of metal upon metal, mixed with loud grunts and indistinguishable clamor, became clearer with each passing second. Those close enough to see the figures of the guards walking along the wall, witnessed them turning away to face back to the city just before disappearing altogether. Word spread in a flash. It was time. The rebels pressed forward, no longer concerned about discovery. It was obvious the guards were otherwise occupied. Those in front now stood only inches from the heavy gate. They could not see what was happening inside, but they knew that Spartacus and Gannicus were doing their very best to raise the gate as quickly as possible. Then it was suddenly happening. The gate groaned as it crept upward... one inch, two inches, three inches, and more. Finally it was high enough for the first man, Crixus, to roll underneath. Several of the strongest of the rebels took up positions at the bottom of the partially-raised gate, using their well-developed muscles to force it higher. Agron, Nasir, and the others followed fast on the heels of Crixus. Guards that had come to fight to protect their city, were swiftly struck down by the experienced warriors at the head of the invasion forces. 

************************************************************* 

The streets of Sinuessa began to flow with blood as more and more rebels streamed through the gate, like a merciless stampede of enraged beasts. No quarter was being given to any Roman caught in the maelstrom. Panic ensued, as the air became filled with the screams of dead and dying Romans. Only Romans who realized early on what was happening, and had locked their doors, were temporarily safe. Even women and children became a part of the massacre. Romans were not the only ones to die this night. Some Romans struck down their own slaves, knowing they would join the rebellion and stand against them, if given the chance. Laeta, wife of Ennuis, heard the pandemonium from the doorway of her house on the hill. A sixth sense told her what was happening. She called for her husband, but was told by a frantic house slave that he had left for the city storehouse as soon as word reached him of the invasion. 

Laeta quickly determined that she must find Ennuis to assure herself that he yet lived. She was about to depart in search of her husband, when their guests from Rome, Craigh and Cassius, came running out from one of the guest houses. They were completely flustered and appeared to be half-drunk. She had no time to waste on them, having found their company distasteful soon after Ennuis introduced them to her, but they were her husband's guests and business partners. She stopped to answer their questions as best she could. They were obviously alarmed. She could hear it in their voices, despite their slurred speech. It took a moment for them to grasp what she was telling them, but she finally saw the light dawn in their eyes. Both men turned ashen. They had heard all the horror stories of revenge delivered by the hands of ex-slaves on their masters. No Roman was safe once the creatures who followed Spartacus got a toe-hold on a villa. Now they were apparently attacking an entire city. The one place that the men thought would be safe was now a trap. There was only the open sea or an impassable mountain for escape. Both routes led to certain death. And now their host had left them alone to fend for themselves, for only the gods knew what reason! 

Craigh and Cassius sobered instantly. They returned to Cassius's guest house, where they had been drinking for hours while talking over their woes, all caused by an ungrateful son and a miserable slave. Craigh was angry that he would now have to curry favor with another rich Roman bastard in order to win the hand of a new wife, as he had once done for Ginevra. He cared nothing for who she might be, as long as she gave him more sons. Cassius was equally as angry at the thought of having to replace Brion. Not only had the man been a good fuck, but even more importantly, he had a brilliant head for business. He had managed Cassius's house better than anyone else before him. But there was no way he could be spared simply because of his skills. He and that other piece of shit, Justinus's body slave, Ethan, had to be used as an example by being crucified in the morning. By the time the two men heard the disturbing noises from the city, they had decided they could live with their decisions regarding the three men they had condemned to their fates. 

Now their minds turned to what they must do to save themselves. There was little time to discuss their choices. Cassius announced that he was not taking any chances. He would kill the few slaves he brought with him so that they could not turn a hand against him with the help of the rebels. Then he would seek a hiding place for himself. On a vast estate like this one, there had to be hiding places. He would force one of Ennuis's slaves to reveal the location, before killing him too. He advised Craigh to do the same. Cassius then hurried away to find the unfortunate slaves he had brought on the trip. Craigh agreed with Cassius's assessment of their situation. He found Agape, his personal body slave, alone in the master bedroom of their guest house. The older man was caught completely off-guard and easily dispatched with the blade of Craigh's dagger to his back. He next found the two female kitchen slaves that had accompanied them on the trip, and ended their lives too. As he stood over their bodies, his next thought turned to his son. The boy was a bitter disappointment, but he did have a way with slaves. Maybe, if he released Justinus, along with his body slave and his lover, he would have a chance of being spared by the rebels. He knew that his son had a soft heart... far too soft as far as Craigh was concerned... but this was one time it might prove a valuable trait. Surely, he decided, his own son would take pity on him. All Justinus had to do was convince the two freed slaves to speak on their behalf. If he reminded them that he wasn't truly a Roman, he might stand a chance of survival. Then he could slip away unnoticed once things settled down. 

Craigh hurried from the house and made his way quickly to the small building where his son was being kept. The two guards who had stood watch at the entrance were no longer in sight. Craigh was certain they were called away by their Dominus to help fight the rebels. He entered the building and made his way to the small room that housed the cell he'd left his son in. He saw the key to the cell hanging on a hook near the doorway. He grabbed it tightly in his hand and approached the darkened cell. There was very little light. A tiny slit, that served as a window, did not provide much light from the moon. There was only a single lit candle on a bare wooden desk near the door. Its light failed to illuminate the figures inside the cell. Craigh carried a small torch. He walked to the door of the cell and peered in, holding the torch high so that it could pierce the darkness of the tiny room. He was immediately taken aback to find his son lying on the floor, in the arms of the bastard who ruined all his plans for Justinus's future. Ethan lay close by, also appearing to be asleep.

"Son, rouse self," Craigh ordered, his voice higher than normal. "Quickly, we must break words, or see all our lives doomed to destruction."

Justinus and Brion were startled awake by the intrusion. They had not expected to see anyone again until morning. They had no idea what hour it was, but they could see that it was still dark outside. Justinus was surprised at his father's appearance too. He had never seen his father like this before. The man was sweating profusely and fidgeting as if being stung by a thousand bees. There was a look in his eyes that was also out of character for Craigh. He always appeared so self-assured to the young man. He looked far from confident now. If Justinus had to describe the look in his eyes, it was terror. The man looked terrified. Justinus jumped up, followed by Brion, who still ached from sharp pains radiating along his back. 

"What brings you to such a state, Father?" Justinus questioned. "What has happened?"

Craigh slipped the key in the lock and pulled the door open. He entered the dingy cell and pulled Justinus away from Brion. Planting his hands firmly on his son's shoulders, he directed his gaze straight into the young man's eyes. Gathering all the deceptive skills he had practiced over the years, he gave his son a look he hoped would be interpreted as fatherly concern. 

"Our lives will soon be cut short, Son. Word spreads that the forces of Spartacus have breached defenses of the city. They spread like vermin through the streets, killing with impunity all Roman's they find. They are not known to harm others. We may yet be spared. We are not of Roman blood. The day will come when these rebels will be captured and their followers dealt with harshly. I make this vow... these two slaves you care for will be under my protection when that day comes. Their lives will not be forfeit. In return, we lay claim to being Celt now, and they bear witness to its veracity."

Justin pulled away from his father's grip. He returned to Brion's side. The lovers shared a look, but no words. Brion knew it had to be up to Justinus to make a choice regarding his father's mad plan. It had nothing to do with him being a slave. It was simply a matter of Justinus needing to be in charge of his father's future. Brion's eyes told Justinus that he would go along with any decision he made. Encouraged by Brion's silent support, Justinus turned back to his father. He knew exactly how he must respond to his father's offer.

"Father, your offer arrives too late. Ethan lies dead already. He no longer can speak for anyone."

Craigh looked down at his son's long-time body slave. He barely knew the boy, nor did he care a thing about his fate. It was simply one less slave to help them with their deception. He looked back up and let his eyes settle on Brion. 

"A tragedy in one so young," Craigh claimed, trying to sound regretful. "But, there is still Cassius's man. Cassius yet lives when last I saw him, but I fear it is a temporary state. This man," pointing at Brion, "is free to offer protection in exchange for equal help when fortunes are reversed."

Justinus bristled at his father's superior tone, even when begging Brion for help. 

"This man carries a name, Father. It is Brion, a Celt... but not such as you... or I. He is a man of honor, so I will not ask protection for you from him."

"You would see your own father and yourself to the afterlife rather than ask help from this slave?" Craigh bristled. "I knew you to be the fool... witness your sordid bond with this creature. Then I leave you to your fate."

Craigh turned away from the couple as if to leave them. They were unaware that he carried the knife he had already used several times this night, inside the folds of his cloak. As he turned, he pulled it quietly from the sheath on his belt. In a lightning move, he turned again to face his son, bringing his arm high above his head. In that instant, Brion saw the light from the torch bounce off the blade. 

"Justinus!" Brion screamed. He threw himself between father and son. Despite his injuries from the whip, Brion grabbed hard onto Craigh's arm with both hands. The blade flew through the air as Craigh lost his grip on it. A metallic clanging noise filled the room as it bounced off the floor and came to rest under the table. When Craigh dove down to retrieve his weapon, Brion fell on top of him and wrestled him away from it. Justinus hadn't seen the knife, but he heard it. His heart seized in his chest. He knew his father wasn't fond of him, but he had never expected the man would try to take his life. 

The room was almost completely dark again, with the torch Craigh carried now lying on the floor, and the candle from the table snuffed out when it was knocked off during the struggle between the two combatants. Justinus could hear the labored grunts of Craigh and Brion as they each fought to overpower the other. Justinus felt more fear than ever before. Instinctively he knew his father would kill Brion if he got his hands on the knife again. Skirting the two men, who continued fighting close to the table, Justinus moved around so that he was beside the heavy piece of furniture. He dropped to his hands and knees and began feeling around. Time was running out rapidly. Brion was still badly injured. Justinus doubted he would be able to fight off the very fit Craigh much longer. 

Justinus finally felt what he was searching for. The handle of the blade was warm to the touch. He lifted it up to his face so that he could see what he was holding. He recognized the dagger immediately. It was a gift given to his father from a friend a few years earlier. The handle was made of ivory, with ornate carvings. As far as he knew, his father had only worn it for show. It was clear that he now intended to use it for a far deadlier purpose. Justinus reached for the base of the torch lying on the floor. The flame hadn't died out, and now shone brightly as he picked it up and held it aloft. For the first time he could clearly see Brion and his father still struggling on the floor. He held out the knife in front of him.

"Father! Brion!" he shouted. 

Something in his voice brought the two adversaries to a halt, each keeping their hold on the other. They turned their eyes to Justinus, standing in a pool of light from the torch he held above him. 

"Brion, release hold on Father. Father, leave us... or see blade find its home in owner's flesh."

Brion loosened his grip at the same time Craigh did the same. They stood up, facing son and lover. Craigh took a step toward Justinus.

"Do not misjudge intent, Father. Come no closer. Leave us to our fate, as we will leave you to yours."

Craigh considered his next move. He was certain he could wrest control of the knife from his son. He had never seen Justinus as anything other than a weakling. The boy had even avoided war games his peers seemed to enjoy playing so much when they were young. But, even if he won back his weapon, Craigh knew he had an even stronger threat in the slave to contend with too. It would have been so much easier for him to strike a killing blow to the slave during all the confusion, after dispatching his son. It was too late for surprises now. If he went after Justinus, the slave would surely stop him before he could succeed in retrieving his weapon. Craigh, ever the practical man, chose discretion over vain attempt. He moved away from Brion and stepped towards the door. He turned back to face his son one last time.

"Your choices bring you shame and certain death, but I will not grieve. You are no loss to me." He then pointed a finger at Brion. "Neither will you be a loss to this creature. He will brag, over rebel campfires, of how he bedded a noble Roman and then discarded him. Perhaps they will let you live long enough to pass you around, as they would a Roman cunt... for sport, until they tire of you. Now I will leave you to your fate, as you have requested."

With those final words, Craigh turned on his heel and hurried from the room. Jusinus dropped the knife and the torch. He was shaking, whether from anger or fear, Brion was not certain. He quickly gathered the young man into his arms, holding him tightly. They had little time to waste, but Brion wanted to be certain that Justinus was alright first. He waited until he felt the tremors easing off. He then lifted Justinus's face. He kissed him tenderly.

"The gods would be impressed. You showed great courage, Justinus. Shame rests only on your father's head," Brion whispered in his lover's ear. "My heart is yours for the taking," he added, before kissing Justinus again. 

Justinus drew in a sharp breath. His heart beat faster. If this night was to be his last, at least he knew he'd leave with the love of a good man as a part of his legacy. As they pulled away, they could hear strange noises from outside their tiny, narrow window for the first time. It was obvious that the rebels were getting closer to their location. Justinus refused to panic. As long as he could spend his last minutes in Brion's arms, he was content with his fate. Brion, however, had no intention of losing Justinus to anyone, Roman or rebel. His mind raced. He knew he was probably safe, but he had to keep Justinus safe too. He could plead for the young man's life, and they might listen, but it was a risky move. Then it struck him. 

"Your body slave!" he declared. 

"What?"

"His collar." 

Brion picked up the torch and stepped back into the cell. He went to Ethan's body, now cold to the touch. He reached for the clasp on the slave collar the young man had worn for years. He loosened it and pulled the collar off, then walked back to Justinus and held it out.

"I know he was friend to you. He would wish his death to serve purpose. His collar would mean life for you. I think he would have it so. The rebels will not kill either of us. We then join their cause, until it is safe for you to escape."

"And you?"

Before Brion could think of an answer, the sounds grew louder. He pulled Justinus into his arms, but not to hug him as the young Roman expected. Instead, Brion quickly clasped the collar around Justinus's neck. It fit perfectly. Without a word, Brion picked up the key to their cell. It had been spotted by Brion, falling from Craigh's hand during their struggles. He pulled Justinus back into the cell, then stuck his hand through the bars and locked the door. He threw the key onto the table, praying his aim was true. Grabbing Justinus's arm, he forced his lover to the ground, then joined him. 

"What madness has come over you?" Justinus begged.

"Not madness. No suspicion of deception will fall on us when the rebels arrive. No Roman would be locked in this cell. and we both wear the collar. Few in this city have seen you as son of a Roman citizen. All we must do is avoid any slaves from the house of Ennuis who might remember you. We blend in until knowledge is gained for our next move."

"And what of Ethan? He wears no collar."

Brion thought quickly. "We claim he slipped collar for attempt to run to freedom."

 

"And what crime is ours for imprisonment?"

"Truth shall be our cloak. We are lovers from different houses, without permission from our masters. Not an unheard of excuse for whippings and beatings."

Brion might have said more, but it was too late for further discussion. The noises they had been hearing grew much louder and closer. A minute later, the small room was filled with light from several torches, held in the hands of men who also carried weapons in their other hand. The men were splattered with crimson red. Some were dressed in peasant clothing, some in the protective gear of gladiators, and some even wearing remnants of soldier's uniforms. There were at least half a dozen men now filling the room, all with fierce countenances. The most discomforting look was on the face of the tallest man. He seemed to be the leader of the group, especially when he approached the cell door and sought the attention of the men inside in an authoritative voice.

"You there," he called to the prisoners. "Break words and give title to position on this estate. Then name crime that finds you so ill-treated."

Brion got to his feet and turned his back to the rebels to help Justinus up. Before he could speak, the smaller man standing next to the leader spoke up first.

"Agron, open eyes. These men are injured. We must free them first, then comes questioning."

The man called Agron turned to the smaller man. His face seemed to soften very slightly.

"And how are we to free them?" he questioned.

Brion spoke up then. "The table. I saw the guard drop the key there when he heard sounds of your arrival." Brion added flattery for effect. "He turned pale at thought of meeting with fabled Spartacus and his rebels."

"What would he know of our being said rebels?"

"All of Rome trembles at thought of seeing Spartacus and his people. All our people who wear the collar pray to the gods for such a sight."

Brion knew he'd hit home. The man called Agron smiled. He didn't need to give orders for anyone to use the key to unlock the cell door. The smaller man already had it in hand and stepped in front of Agron to release the prisoners. Agron laid his hand on the smaller man's shoulder.

"Nasir, find a medicus to tend to their wounds." He turned to Brion. "What of this other man, who lies so quiet?" he asked, pointing at Ethan.

"The lash has sent him to the afterlife," Justinus responded.

"Your companion has tongue to speak." Agron turned Justinus around, staring at his back. "Our arrival stalled your turn at the whip?"

"It did. Gratitude!" Justinus answered.

"We will break words further after care is delivered. We still have work to do before day follows night. Follow Nasir. He will see you safely to aid. There is danger in every path this night."

Brion and Justinus did as they were told. Nasir led the way, with another rebel following close behind, as they left the accursed building they had thought would be their last lodging only an hour before. The night was far from over, but at least they had survived thus far. The future was still uncertain. They did not know the fate of anyone they knew... Craigh, Cassius, the family slaves, Ennuis, or his slaves. Any one of them could cause doubt in their story. But for now, they still lived. As long as there was life, there was the hope of survival.

To be continued...........


	9. Friendships Formed & Evil Deeds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A great deal happens during the first two weeks after Spartacus and his followers take control of the seaside city of Sinuessa en Valle. The hundreds of Romans who once lived within the city walls has been reduced to a few dozen known survivors. There are, however, survivors who have escaped detection. Perhaps one or more of them hold the key to survival for one man who has gone undetected right under the noses of the rebels. In the meantime, new friendships have formed quickly for two couples who share similar stories of love and affection. But how strong will these new bonds be when tested by outside, and inside forces?

Each day followed another within the walls of the seaside city of Sinuessa en Valle. Every day brought new discoveries, some welcome... others most assuredly not. Spartacus found his position as Chief Leader over the rebel forces morally burdensome at times. The taking of the city had been bloodier than any his followers had experienced so far. More women and children were struck down during the uncontrolled frenzy of bloodlust than in the past, much of that thanks to their ranks swelling with embittered ex-slaves. It didn't help calm things when the Aedile of the city, Ennuis, soaked a large portion of the grain stores with pitch before being cut down by Spartacus. His actions lessened the amount of food available for the rebels, giving them more of an incentive to call for dispatching even those small numbers of Romans who had survived the first day of the massacre. The reasoning was that the reduced food supplies would be wasted on the prisoners. Spartacus couldn't even rely on his closest Generals for unqualified support in sparing the survivors. Crixus and Agron were not in favor of such leniency. Crixus, spurred on by his lover, Naevia, and Agron, carried such a strong hatred for Romans that they were unable to feel any compassion for them. Not even the age, sex, or circumstances of any Roman softened the hearts of those three, and many others of like mind. Only the firm hand of Spartacus kept the small number of Roman survivors alive, although barely. They were kept on open display in the town squares, shackled by the very same chains they had once used on their slaves. They were treated as poorly as the worst Roman masters had once treated their slaves. Even those who had never raised a hand against any slave, or had the means to own a slave of their own, were dealt with cruelly. 

There were, of course, those rebels who were not so harsh. Nasir was one of those. His sentiments were shared by Justinus, a freed slave (so Nasir thought) that Nasir had begun to form a friendship with quite quickly after he and his lover had been rescued from imprisonment. Perhaps it was the kindred spirit he felt when with Justinus that led Nasir to finding the young man so interesting. The first thing Nasir noticed about Justinus was how solicitous he was towards his companion, Brion. Brion had no trouble keeping up with them when Nasir showed the two men where the assembly of healers had started to set up stations to care for the wounded. However, he could see how much pain Brion was in once the medicus began rubbing an ointment into the deep lacerations on his back. What impressed Nasir was Justinus's reaction each time Brion flinched at the woman's touch. Justinus grimaced even more than Brion, as if he was the one in pain. Nasir recognized the look on the young man's face. He'd seen that same look on Agron's face when he was badly injured rescuing Naevia from the mines. Agron couldn't stand to see him in pain, and it was obvious that Justinus felt the same way about Brion. Before leaving the couple on their own, Nasir made a mental note to seek them out again once things settled down. He felt it would be worth his time getting to know them better.

While Brion was tended to, with Justinus by his side, Nasir rejoined Agron. The final bloodshed that first night occurred when Ennuis tried to burn the grain, and was killed for his efforts. All Romans who had been forced from their homes, and yet lived through the night, were gathered together and chained by the time the Sun began to rise over the horizon. It was a rather large city, so there were those few Romans who had managed to hide themselves away without being found. Among those was one man who could easily destroy Justinus... his own father, Craigh. It was sheer luck that Craigh escaped detection. After leaving Justinus and Brion to their fates, he entered Ennuis's main house, looking frantically for a place to hide away. All he found were the dead bodies of a number of slaves. His heart sank when he heard odd sounds coming from one of the rooms off the central courtyard close by. If the sounds came from the rebels, he knew he was a dead man. He was about to turn tail and run for his life, when a figure emerged from the doorway of the same room the sounds came from. Craigh instantly recognized the man, though his face, arms, and clothing were dripping with blood. It was Cassius. He held a sharp dagger clutched in his hand. 

"Finally! The last of Ennuis's swine loosened tongue and revealed knowledge of a room secreted in this house. Follow me. We will gather food and drink from the kitchen to sustain us. Once word is delivered to Rome of the fall of Sinuessa, deliverance will arrive. The rebels will feel the full weight of Rome and we will live to exact revenge for their actions this night," Cassius vowed.

Craigh knew there was no time to question Cassius. The two men hurried to the kitchen, stepping over the bloodied body of the cook Cassius had slain when she could, or would not give him the answers he sought. They gathered jugs of water and wine and loaves of bread, along with fruits, vegetables, and dried meats from the larder. They wrapped all they could carry in cloths. Craigh then followed Cassius. He was led to the very back of the large house, to a room that was used for storage of unused furnishings and trunks of various sizes. Cassius moved some of the larger trunks piled against a wall. When he did so, Craigh could see that there was a full-sized decorative rug covering most of the back wall. Cassius moved the rug aside, revealing a small, inconspicuous hook embedded in the wall. Cassius pushed on it and stepped forward as a section of the wall slid inward. A small empty space was now visible to the men. Craigh looked around the room, and then along the wall, that no longer appeared solid.

"This is madness. Discovery is inevitable. How do we hide the hidden door from prying eyes?"

"If mind conjures better plan, voice it."

Craigh said nothing. Cassius began lifting several of the trunks, testing their weight. He finally found what he was looking for. 

"These trunks serve as our shield. Their weight is heavy and less likely to be moved by the curious. "

Cassius began to outline his plan. He explained how they would stack as many trunks around the rug as possible, leaving just enough space for them to enter without signs of anyone having been there. Once they closed the door from inside and the rug was in place, there should be no reason for anyone to suspect there was a room behind the rug. They quickly checked out the space inside. There were several full oil lamps and bedding already in place on a very small table in the cramped quarters. There was even a chamber pot ready for their use, with a deep hole dug into the ground to dispose of the pot's contents when full. Ennuis obviously did not expect to remain hidden in the tiny space for an extended period of time when he had the room built inside his home, but it would serve its purpose long enough. At least that was what the two men were relying on.

Cassius entered the room first and had Craigh pass over the bundles they had gathered. As soon as the last one was inside, the two men quickly replaced the heaviest trunks, setting them up against the wall and in front of the rug. They were just checking the room for any evidence of their presence when they heard the obvious sounds of others, coming from the front of the house. There was no time to waste. They scurried over the trunks, like rats into a hole, letting the rug drop into place so it lay smoothly against the wall. From inside, they pushed the heavy door closed. To the naked eye, the wall again appeared to be solid. Only the most observant eye would question what the tiny hook in the wall was about, or even notice the imperceptible crack in the foundation. For all intents and purposes, the two men now felt safe. As Cassius lit the first of the oil lamps and snuffed the torch, they prayed their stay would be short and uneventful.

*************************************************************

Throughout the first week and the next, following the takeover of Sinuessa, Spartacus did his best to control his people, but his forces had grown to an almost ungovernable mass of conflicting opinions and desires. His main concerns were for food to feed the masses, as a result of the damage the Aedile had managed to cause to the grain supplies before his death. His second concern was for their Roman prisoners. Spartacus felt there had been enough bloodshed, and did not want further harm to come to those few dozens who had managed to escape the afterlife. Not all agreed with him. Crixus and Naevia were at the head of that faction. Agron agreed with Crixus, but was loathe to go against any of Spartacus's wishes. This was good news for Nasir, who felt exactly like Spartacus. He was more than willing to stand by Agron's side in battle, and kill as many as needed in order to win the day, but he detested wanton killing of the innocent and helpless. During his time as slave, he had seen kindness and generosity in more than one Roman, if not in his own Dominus. Agron and he seldom fought over their principles, and even less seldom, discussed their different philosophies. Nasir saw no point in it. He loved Agron for who he was, warts and all.

Having such different ideas of what was acceptable with his lover, did lead to what was slowly happening between Nasir and the newly freed 'slave', Justinus. The day after the invasion, Nasir sought out Justinus and his companion, Brion. Agron joined him, and the four men shared a meal during the noon hour, while Agron questioned the couple for more details of their history. Brion and Justinus had plenty of time during that first night and early morning to get their stories straight. By the time, the other couple had joined them, they had every nuance of their tale finely tuned. It was Brion who recognized the relationship between Agron and Nasir halfway through the meal. When Justinus made a comment about the joys of being able to love whom he chose, without fear, Nasir gave Agron a look that Brion translated immediately. He said nothing about his thoughts at the time. He saved it for when he was again alone with Justinus. Recognizing that they all had something in common, the creation of two friendships had its tentative beginnings.

When Spartacus chose the former house of Ennuis as his personal headquarters, leaving Crixus and Agron to claim the guest houses as their own, Agron suggested that Brion and Justinus share the space with he and Nasir. There were two separate sleeping quarters in the house for each couple. When Justinus saw that Agron had chosen the house he had shared with his father, he felt nervous over the prospect. His greatest fear came because they had not been able to locate his father or Cassius, either among the living or dead in the city. They learned from Agron that only household slaves were discovered on Ennuis's property, and all those were murdered, no doubt by the hand of their masters. Justinus felt sorrow at the loss of his father's house slaves. He had grown up with them and remembered their kindness to him whenever he would sneak into their kitchen in search of treats. He barely knew his father's body slave, but the man had served his father well and deserved a kinder fate. Brion thought Cassius's act of murder was reprehensible, but did not feel the same sense of loss as Justinus did. He had never allowed himself to connect emotionally to anyone who shared his household. It was Brion who reassured Justinus that staying in the house would be a safe plan. The entire estate had been searched vigorously, and no one living had been discovered. He convinced Justinus that their hated enemies must have escaped to the outside through some hidden means that only Ennuis would have known of, and revealed to them before leaving, which would account for them not being found.

By the time news came of the arrival of Silician pirates at the gates of the city two weeks later, Agron, Nasir, Justinus, and Brion had become agreeably settled under the same roof. Days slipped away. During that time, Agron followed close on Spartacus's heels, doing his best to help him keep order among the ranks. Nasir spent his time applying himself to whatever tasks the two leaders required of him. He was helped greatly with those chores by Justinus, who enjoyed feeling useful. When Brion explained what his duties had been under his Dominus, Agron put him to work with similar responsibilities... organizing supplies, keeping track of weapons, and organizing work details. The fact that Brion could read and write in many languages with great skill was a boon to the rebels. Many ex-slaves were unable to communicate with others distinctly, due to language barriers. That was when Brion was called on to learn of disputes and requests, which were then forwarded to the leadership. 

Many hours were also spent throughout different locations set up specifically for weapons training. All slaves, outside of the young and very old, or women who did not wish it, were required to test their abilities handling weapons. It was the price paid for sanctuary among the rebels. Justinus and Brion were no exception. Nasir, who was one of the best instructors among those assigned the task, was amused by Justinus's difficulty at wielding a sword. He was no natural at the job. Nasir remembered being clumsy at first when Spartacus taught him, but he had been a quick learner in a very short period of time. When Justinus became frustrated, and flung his wooden sword to the ground, Nasir laughed and reminded his friend that he too had found the sword cumbersome in the beginning. He would slap Justinus on the shoulder and urge him to gather the sword up to make another attempt to win over his opponent. Justinus would huff his displeasure, but always did what he was told. By the end of the week, he was able to keep the sword in hand, but was hardly what one would call a warrior. Brion, on the other hand, took to his lessons as if he had been trained for the arena in a previous life. 

Nights in their shared villa would find the two couples exchanging stories of the adventures of their day over their evening meal. There were occasions when Agron was busy elsewhere with Spartacus. There were even a few occasions when both Agron and Brion were away at the same time. Nasir and Justinus felt relaxed in each other's company. They began opening up more to each other each day. Nasir confessed that there were times when Agron frightened him, not so much for his own sake, but for the sake of others. Despite the fact that Agron was always gentle with him, never even raising his voice in anger at his lover, there were times when Agron was so aggressive towards someone else that Nasir feared the outcome of any confrontation. Justinus confessed that he had never seen that kind of anger in Brion, except perhaps when the two of them had been caught by their 'masters'. What bothered Justinus was that Brion was so closed off to him. He did not doubt the depth of Brion's feelings for him, but the man never spoke much about his past or where he came from. Justinus still did not know the full story of how Brion was captured, and what happened to him before and after he was sold into slavery. Even gentle prying had not brought out many details so that Justinus could have a clearer picture of the man he loved. The one thing they both agreed upon wholeheartedly, during their exchanges, was that they accepted their men as they were, no matter what. 

The two younger men became so at ease during these gossip sessions, just between the two of them, that they were completely unaware that both Agron and Brion were beginning to wonder why they often found the two with their heads together, sharing amusement over some little thing. It didn't help Brion and Agron's moods that their lovers would often pull away from each other when they arrived, and act secretive when questioned about the cause of their merriment. There were times when either Nasir or Justinus revealed what brought them to laughter, but other times when neither appeared to have an answer. Those were times when Nasir and Justinus were talking about their lovers, but were reluctant to reveal that information. They felt it wise to change the subject at such times, never knowing that their reluctance to answer only heightened Brion and Agron's curiousity. Although Nasir and Justinus only saw each other as friends, their actions were slowly building suspicions in the back of the minds of Agron and Brion. For the older men, Nasir and Justinus were not merely bed partners and friends. They were the heart of both their lovers... the heart and soul, which if lost, could never be replaced.

Those minor doubts might have faded away into nothing, given time, but a storm was coming that would stir up turmoil affecting the entire city, especially lovers who had something to hide, and their newly found friends. Before the storm subsided, many more would lie dead within and outside the city, and secrets would be revealed. Lovers would find their trust tested to the limits of endurance, and futures would be altered beyond imagining.

To be continued........................


	10. A Dangerous Discovery & the Green-Eyed Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brion and Justinus have learned that the wife of the man who once owned the estate they live on is still living, although locked away as a prisoner of Spartacus. This has made them cautious, as she is the one person they know could expose Justinus and his false identity. This, however, is not the only problem cropping up to stir the muddy waters of life in Sinuessa. There is the arrival of Heracleo and his fellow pirates, one of whom causes tempers to flare. Shall we see how life is treating our two couples, as they continue to live within the walls of the conquered city?

There was plenty of nervous energy running throughout the city of Sinuessa en Valle. Most everyone was aware that the food supplies for the inhabitants of the city were running low. Now, however, they saw a glimmer of hope that the supply of grain would soon be replenished. That hope came in the form of a band of Cilician pirates, led by a suspicious character named Heracleo. His arrival, along with several of his men, caused alarm at first. Their reputation as untrustworthy brigands preceded them, giving cause for Spartacus and his men to doubt whether the pirates should be allowed to spend any time within the city walls. Spartacus changed his mind when Heracleo explained why he had left his ships off-shore and entered the city in the first place. It appeared that Ennuis, Aedile of the city, was far from an honorable man himself. He had a secret arrangement with Heracleo to provide the use of his seal on ownership papers, making it possible for the pirate to trade stolen goods throughout the Republic without fear of legal problems arising. In return, Heracleo shared his bounty with Ennuis. 

Spartacus immediately saw an advantage. He had no problem turning the seal over to Heracleo... for a price. All the pirate had to do was provide his people with food supplies. A deal was struck. Spartacus would pay a sum of coin and turn over the seal to the pirate, in exchange for what the rebels needed. Agron and Crixus did not trust the word of the Cilician at all, but Spartacus was willing to give the man a chance to prove his word was good. The pirates had brought several large casks of wine with them as a peace offering. The pirate suggested that it was time to celebrate their new collaboration. News of the grain stores being restocked was all that was needed to put everyone in a celebratory mood. Only one person did not end up being happy at the arrival of Heracleo. It was Laeta, the Roman wife of Ennuis. She had been locked away in chains in her own house, under the 'protection' of Spartacus. Spartacus felt no guilt for ending her husband's life, but he was empathetic to her loss, having the same thing happen to him with the loss of his own wife. It was obvious that she respected her husband and thought of him as an honorable man. Spartacus was forced to cast disillusionment of her trust in order to find out where her husband kept the seal. As reward for her help, he released her from bondage so that she could be of more help to her fellow Romans, with his promise that a guard would see that no one harmed her when she was in public.

*********************************************************** 

Brion and Justinus had been fortunate during their first couple of weeks as free men within the city. There was only one living person, that they knew of, who was aware of Justinus's real identity. They had learned through Agron that this singular person, Laeta, was being kept prisoner in her own house, which was right across from where they were staying with Agron and Nasir. They were not totally comfortable with her being so close by, but they tried not to think of the danger. Justinus was always cautious whenever he went outside the little house they stayed in. His caution, however, did not protect him the day the pirates arrived. 

Justinus made it a habit to tag along with Nasir during their midday-meal breaks. This day was no exception. Meals were often taken in the company of others while working on the same projects, but this was one of those afternoons when the two men returned to their house to eat and share in lively conversation, away from all others. Justinus and Nasir comported themselves like close brothers, as if they were born from the same mother. Although they were as physically different as two men could be, their personalities were almost identical. The more they talked about all the subjects that came to mind, the more they found themselves in agreement. Of course, Nasir was under the impression that Justinus, like himself, had been a Roman slave most of his life. It was to Justinus's credit that he did not think like an arrogant superior, as most Romans would with someone once called slave. His lack of a feeling of supremacy over Nasir made it easy for them to connect as friends. That friendship became endangered, however, this very day.

It had all begun with actions that happened some distance away from the villa estate. It began when Spartacus discovered that he had need of Laeta, former owner of the estate. When Spartacus made a deal with Heracleo, the Cilician pirate, to exchange the Aedile's seal for food supplies, he had to come back to the villa to ask Laeta's help in discovering the seal's whereabouts. When she agreed, albeit reluctantly, he gave her the right to move about the city somewhat freely. Unfortunately for Justinus, she walked out of her house at the exact same time that the two friends were leaving their house to return to their work. Justinus, Nasir, Laeta, and the escort Spartacus assigned to keep watch over her, met at the gate leading to the road down into the central part of the city. 

Justinus did not recognize Laeta from the back, as he and Nasir approached the gate. The stola she wore over her tunic was badly stained and disheveled from the day of the raid. She had not been allowed to change into any of her other beautiful garments, most of which had been raided by rebels, as gifts for their women, or the women themselves. Her hair no longer lay prettily on her head, but was in complete disarray. It was only when she turned around, to see who was approaching, that Justinus realized his mistake. He was now face to face, and only yards apart, from the one Roman who had spent enough time with him to know who he truly was. He could see that she recognized him too, by the sudden catching of her breath. Fortunately for Justinus, Laeta was a woman of great intelligence and keen perception. She immediately caught the look on Justinus's face. Without a word spoken, his eyes begged for her silence. 

Laeta gave Justinus an almost imperceptible nod of agreement and turned back to the gate. She waited for her guard to open it and then followed him through. Justinus and Nasir followed close behind them. Neither Justinus nor Laeta noticed the quizzical look that flashed briefly across Nasir's face. He was just as perceptive as the two of them, having learned long ago to pay close attention to the gestures of people around him. It was a valuable trait as a slave, and even more so as a rebel on the run. He had caught the discreet, non-verbal message that passed between his friend, Justinus, and the Roman woman. Nasir said nothing for the moment. This was something to be brought up at a better time. That time did not come immediately. Both men were far too busy for the rest of the afternoon. But it would not wait forever. Nasir would not forget that he had questions he wanted answered.

***************************************************************** 

Word had spread quickly among the rebels about the upcoming trade with Heracleo, which would provide much needed supplies for their people. It put everyone into a festive mood. They were even more encouraged when they discovered that the pirates had brought ample gifts of wine along with them. It was the first time since taking control of the city, that there was good reason to relax and celebrate fully. The wine casks were divided up so that parties could be held throughout the city. The most enthusiastic party was held in the grand basilica, located in the city's main forum. What had once been used for handling business and legal transactions was now the scene of drunken pleasures and boisterous horseplay. Agron was delayed in joining the festivities, while he and Spartacus discussed who they would take with them when it was time to meet with the pirates outside the city walls to finalize their deal. Nasir was willing to wait for him, but Agron insisted he join with Justinus and Brion. He promised to join them all as soon as he was free.

The festivities lasted long into the night. All three friends enjoyed many cups of wine. As the hour grew later and the wine continued to flow, half the women and many of the men found their inhibitions loosening up. There were even some members of the party who had also shed their clothing. Brion, who was known to imbibe more than he should when young and a free man, had learned to be cautious of such indulgence after his capture. He still did not feel free to let loose entirely, so he monitored his drinking far more than his companions. Justinus and Nasir were not so inclined, at least not on this night. Both men began showing signs of inebriation. That may be the reason they did not notice what Brion saw clearly. One of the pirates, a very dark lad who was tall, muscular, and rather attractive in a rough sort of way, had been eyeing both of the young men in a way that Brion found annoying. Brion had seen that look in the faces of many different men over the years when they desired him. He was not pleased to recognize that same look on the face of a man staring at Justinus. Brion had never experienced the sensation of jealousy before, but he was definitely discomforted by his feelings towards the stranger. Brion stepped up to Justinus and asked for a word, hoping to convince his lover to leave the gathering a little earlier than their friend, Nasir, who was still waiting on Agron to join them.

Justinus, feeling no pain by now, apologized to Nasir and walked with Brion to a far corner of the room to find out what he wanted. They had barely been able to hear themselves, or each other, in the center of the room. When they stopped, Brion looked back to where Nasir was still standing, and observed the dark stranger leaving his group of friends and moving over to stand next to the Syrian. Brion wasn't surprised by the pirate's bold move. He was probably just waiting for his chance to get either one of the two young friends alone. Brion would have warned Agron to watch out for the stranger, but he was apparently still delayed with rebel business. Brion turned back to Justinus. 

"Well, what matters are cause enough to take me away from deserved diversions?" Justinus wanted to know, his voice slightly slurred. 

Although he was less than sober, a thought popped into his head. He leaned forward and whispered to Brion.

"We must live today as if it is to be my last. I fear it may be so. I may be exposed at any moment."

Brion felt alarm. He had no idea what Justinus was talking about. 

"What makes you speak of such things?" he demanded to know, his voice low and harsh with worry.

"The lady, Laeta, is no longer prisoner. She is free, but under guard. She has seen me in the company of Nasir at her estate. One word from her in Spartacus's ear and I shall join those already on their journey to the afterlife."

Justinus was trying hard to concentrate on what he was saying. His brain was foggy, yet he recognized the apprehension growing in Brion's eyes with every word that came from his mouth. He hadn't meant to tell Brion like this. He had wanted this one night for the two of them to relax and put aside all concerns. He planned on telling him when they woke in the morning, if he was not taken prisoner before then. He was angry at himself for causing Brion such worry. Brion grabbed Justinus by the shoulders and shook him.

"Why did you not inform me of this earlier? How long has this been kept from me? Are you certain she recognized you?"

"I am certain, Brion. Nasir and I shared our midday meal at her estate this very day. As we left, we met Laeta, with her guard at the gate."

"And she said nothing? Perhaps you misjudged her memory."

"She recognized me. We acknowledged our acquaintance without words spoken between us. None was the wiser. Yet she still holds power to expose me at her leisure."

Brion's brain swirled with every possible outcome to what Justinus was telling him. He was angry that his lover had not informed him of something so important right away. Justinus's foolish attempt to keep him from worrying might have cost him his life. For all they knew, Laeta was already exposing Justinus to Spartacus or one of his people. It was a puzzlement that she still lived at all, let alone was free to move about the city, even if it was under guard. Brion had no idea whether she might have struck a deal with the invaders to keep herself alive. He knew that such things happened. All he had to do was look to Craigh, father of his lover, to know that people were capable of such a thing. If that was how she survived, then she might be more than happy to betray Justinus to gain even more favor with the rebels. He said as much to Justinus, who was quickly sobering up.

"Strike such thoughts from mind, Brion. You did not bear witness to her reaction upon seeing me. Possibility of her silence exists. I felt it, but fear to place trust in it, absent words between us."

"You broke no words at all?"

"None," Justinus admitted.

"Then we must find Laeta. Peace will elude us until we know her thoughts."

They never had the chance to discuss their quandary any further. The room was suddenly filled with the sounds of shouts and bodies crashing against tables and chairs. A fight had broken out.

********************************************************************

Agron left his meeting with Spartacus in a confused state of mind. On the one hand, he was happy knowing that the rebels would not be starved out by advancing Roman armies, giving them more time to make arrangements for the future. On the other hand, he didn't trust the pirates as wholeheartedly as Spartacus seemed to. As he made his way to the building where he was to meet with Nasir and their friends for a celebration of the deal they struck with Heracleo, he promised himself he would look on the brighter side of it all. He knew Nasir would appreciate it. Too often he reacted negatively towards things, and he knew it bothered Nasir. One of the things he loved most about Nasir was the way he tolerated his bad moods. He was determined he would not spoil the evening for Nasir with talk of his doubts.

Agron entered the building in search of Nasir, or even the couple they had befriended. There were too many bodies scattered throughout, most of them obviously intoxicated beyond a wise limit. He continued to search for the only one he wanted to see, pushing aside at least two women who tried to grab his attention. Finally he spotted the long, dark hair he was searching for when a cluster of revelers parted. He was about to call out Nasir's name when he noticed he wasn't standing alone. He was talking to a man that Agron recognized from the party of pirates who had attended with Heracleo. Nasir's face revealed that he was a bit inebriated himself, a rare thing for his lover. The two men were grinning at each other. Agron felt an odd feeling in his chest. He couldn't recall ever feeling it before. He tried to shake the unpleasant feeling away, but just then he noticed that Nasir was trying to leave and the pirate grabbed his arm, holding him back. Agron's vision blurred, making it impossible for him to focus. An anger, unlike any he had felt before, bubbled to the surface and his thought processes disappeared. All he could do was react.

Later, Agron barely remembered rushing over to Nasir and the pirate, but that is what he did. He angrily told the man to remove his hand from Nasir. The pirate did as he was told and stepped back. It might have ended there, but then the pirate added some kind of insult that pushed Agron, who was already beyond reason with this mysterious anger inside him, to the breaking point. Agron cold-cocked the pirate then and there. This was what had disturbed Justinus and Brion's conversation. The pirate fought back, but nothing could stop Agron's rage. It was massive. He soon had the unlucky flirt down on his knees in front of him and was pummeling the man's face with blow after blow. Only the angry sound of Spartacus's voice stopped Agron. Spartacus walked in and saw what was happening, and although he did not know the cause of it all, he knew the possible repercussions on the deal he'd set up with Heracleo. 

Agron's vision cleared just enough for him to finally realize how far he'd gone. He saw disapproval in the way Spartacus looked at him, as well as Nasir. With one last angry punch at the hated pirate's face, Agron dropped him like an unwelcome plague and rushed from the room. Nasir stayed behind to apologize to the pirate. Brion understood Agron's reaction. He had been irritated just as much by the flirting pirate earlier that evening, although he certainly hadn't reacted so strongly. Brion turned to Justinus, telling him to stay with Nasir, while he tried to calm Agron down. His fear was that Agron, who obviously had control issues over his temper, would somehow let his anger spill out over Nasir. Brion liked both men far too much to want to see that happen. He hurried away, following Agron.

Brion found Agron back at the house they shared. It hadn't been hard to realize where he was heading. He knocked several people and a couple of small carts out of his way as he headed home. The sound of a breaking jug told Brion that Agron was in his sleeping chamber. He entered the room to find Agron pacing furiously back and forth in front of a wall, now stained by splattered wine from the jug... its pieces scattered along the wall. It took a few moments for Agron to understand that he was no longer alone. He growled at Brion.

"Calm yourself, friend, I am no judge of your actions. The man overstepped. Earlier, his eyes wandered to my man. Only quick removal from his presence stayed my hand... that and fear of Spartacus's displeasure."

"I fear no man," Agron shot back.

Brion laughed. "Such boastful words, clearly demonstrated."

"I would slay all who lay attempt to wrest Nasir from my arms," Agron declared vehemently. 

"Have you spoken of this to the one who holds your heart?"

"He knows my heart."

"As you must know his. No fault lies within the breasts of Nasir or Justinus. That Cilician knows not his place. We will both be watchful of him while he overstays his welcome," Brion promised.

Agron's mind was finally clearing. He was beginning to understand what Brion was telling him. He too had experienced this unfamiliar feeling, which made common sense flee, as a hare pursued by a hound. 

"Your words ring true, friend. I fear we suffer a fate many men, and even the gods, have shared."

"Jealousy? I fear it so," Brion agreed.

It was then that the two men heard approaching footsteps. It was Nasir and Justinus, returning home, unsure of what would be waiting for them. Brion hurried over to Justinus. He gave his lover a reassuring look, and turned to Agron.

"We take our leave. May the god, Somnus, and his son, Morpheus bring you peaceful rest this night."

Brion exchanged a knowing look with Agron. The ex-gladiator nodded his understanding, then watched as Brion led Justinus away. As they left Agron and Nasir's room, Brion reminded Justinus that they had their own concerns to discuss. Nasir waited until the couple was out of sight before approaching Agron. 

"Spartacus stands displeased with celebration's end," Nasir warned Agron, irritation coloring his voice.

"I was not one to cause offence," Agron insisted, his voice rising again.

"The Cilician overstepped, yet your response was......."

"As it fucking should be! Jupiter himself would find cause to tremble if he laid hand upon you!"

Nasir was surprised. He never doubted Agron cared for him a great deal, but until this moment, he had not realized the depth of Agron's feelings. He smiled, and stepped up to Agron. 

”You would battle a god for me?"

Agron repeated what he told Brion only minutes before... that he would slay any who tried to take Nasir away from him.

"Strike Jupiter and the Cilician from mind. I would have them of no concern to the one that holds my heart," Nasir proclaimed, laying his hand gently along Agron's stubbly cheek.

The hazy veil of anger, that had clouded Agron's vision, fell away and all he now saw was Nasir's beautiful face smiling up at him, love radiating from within. Agron pulled Nasir's face to his, and their lips met in a crushing kiss, robbing them of breath. Their passion for one another drowned their senses and they happily surrendered to the tidal-wave of emotions. Their breaths mingled; their sweat mingled; at last their bodies became one too. As Agron filled Nasir with his seed and held Nasir's seed in his hand, they were only aware of the pleasure they lived in each other's arms. They were oblivious to the fears experienced only a short distance away, as another couple wrapped their arms around each other, trying their best not to give in to their anxiety over what the future held for them. They too made love this night, but theirs was different. They made love as if it would be their last time together.

To be continued.........


	11. A Snake Within Their Midst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brion is eager to discover Laeta's true intentions regarding her knowledge of Justinus's true identity. Meanwhile, the rebels have unwittingly allowed two venomous foes to enter their safe enclosure. One is suspected, the other a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Finding Laeta, Roman widow of the city's chief magistrate, had been a lot easier than Brion anticipated. There were no more than one out of every ten Roman citizens of Sinuessa still living, and they were gathered in very few places throughout the city. Gossip moved fast among ex-slaves and rebels when something unique was happening. Many people were surprised that Spartacus had released such an important Roman to wander freely among others. They were not surprised, however, at the noblewoman's efforts to comfort the remaining survivors, all of whom had no freedoms at all. They were barely fed and given no real shelter from weather or the stares of their captors. They were not even given the dignity of relieving themselves in private, but forced to use buckets placed along walls of the forums they were kept in. Brion convinced a reluctant Justinus that he should not be the one to seek Laeta out to question her about her intentions regarding him. Brion's fear was that she would resent seeing him walking around unfettered and helping the rebels, while so many of her fellow Romans suffered such torturous conditions.

Brion found Laeta on her knees in the central forum, feeding scraps of bread to a hungry woman, heavy with child. The poor wretch could barely lift her arms with the heavy fetters around her wrists. Brion felt no satisfaction in the woman's misery, but he was not here to help any Roman, other than Justinus. He approached Laeta from behind, waiting for her to rise to her feet. When she did, he tapped her shoulder to get her attention. She swung around, and the instant Brion looked into her eyes, he saw recognition there. He experienced the same feeling Justinus mentioned when he first spotted the woman. A brief burst of fear clutched at his throat, but he forced himself to remain calm. Laeta spoke before he could form his first thought.

"Apologies, but your name does not spring to mind. I confess, it was not you I expected would seek words with me. It is one called Justinus that I thought to see."

"Brion, Mistress. I am called Brion. I am here in the name of Justinus."

"Ahh, yes. Memory serves me well. I recall the fond looks you shared with the young man during our evening meals. No other eyes appeared to notice, but I tend to view such things with pleasure. Affection is rarely witnessed in these times we live in."

Brion was almost speechless. He had no clue that anyone had paid attention to the glances he shared with Justinus while he attended Cassius during the meals at the estate. They both believed they had been extremely discreet. Knowing this, he was surprised they had not been caught earlier than they were.

"I see fear in your eyes... Brion. Why do you fear? You are a free man now... you and your young man."

Brion was about to protest, but was silenced by Laeta's raised hand.

"Fret not. I also observed young Justinus with his father. He was no more free than you, under that man's domination. I take it, from sight of Justinus freely accompanying a rebel, that he is not known to be Roman?"

"You speak truly. The very night rebels invaded the city, our relationship became known by father to Justinus, and my Dominus. We were imprisoned, along with slave to Justinus... his only crime, being present at discovery. When rebels broke into our cell, they assumed we bore brand of slave from injuries inflicted on us both."

"And what of the third man, slave to Justinus?"

"The whip sent him to the afterlife. Justinus placed his collar around his neck as proof of position. The deed saved his life. Now his life rests within your hands."

"And that is why you sought me out... to know the leaning of my mind."

It was not a question, but rather a statement of fact. Brion nodded his head.

"I care not for my own safety, Madam. I care only for his. I beseech you, do not expose our lie!"

Laeta looked Brion squarely in the face. She straightened her shoulders and stood with dignity, as if she were no longer enslaved herself, but still the wife of the most powerful man in the city.

"There has been enough bloodshed in our fair city. The gods weep for it. I will not add more to stain the streets. Nor do I seek to extinguish flames of love, when hate now rules the day. You may go to your 'friend' and reassure him. My voice shall not give him cause for alarm."

Brion's relief was written all over his face. He laid his hand gently on her shoulder.

"Gratitude! And may your gods protect you from further harm. If ever you have need of favor returned, call on me. It shall be given with joyful heart."

Laeta acknowledged Brion's promise, and the two parted ways. Brion knew that Laeta still held power over their future, but he felt she could be trusted. He knew that it was easy to paint all Romans with the same brush, yet not all wore their colors the same. In the decade he had lived among the Romans, he had witnessed more than one act of kindness to counter the cruelties. Brion hurried away to find Justinus, to give him the welcome news.

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Justinus stood close by Nasir as he collected weapons from refugees at the gate to the city. The bargain with Heracleo, the Cilician pirate, was sealed two days earlier. The following day, Spartacus, Agron, Crixus, Gannicus, and a dozen of their best men took leave of the city to meet upon the shores of the sea, where Heracleo's ships lay at anchor. They brought the price bargained for the food supplies. The transaction did not go well. It was not the pirates, however, who gave concern. The two groups had unexpected company in the form of a small unit of Roman soldiers, led by a young man barely old enough to shave. The rebels and pirates were attacked from the opposite side of the shoreline. The day was saved by a volley of fireballs launched from the bows of the Cilician ships, which decimated half the soldiers, while forcing the other half to flee for their lives. There were losses on all three sides. Happily for Nasir, Agron was not among them. The pirates returned to their ships, with instructions to sail into the city docks in order to continue the trade in relative safety.

Later that night, the rebels tried to fathom why such a small force would make an attempt under such unfavorable conditions. They were not aware that the attack was ordered by the son of Crassus, supreme Commander over the advancing army, given the task of eradicating the rebels from the face of the earth. Nor did they know that Crassus would make his son pay dearly for disobeying his orders to scout only, and not engage the enemy. But at this moment, it was of no concern to Spartacus. His concerns were for the growing number of runaway slaves pushed forward by the advancing Roman army, and seeking refuge within the safety of the walled city. Despite the arguments by his Generals against letting in more refugees, Spartacus ordered the gate left open, as long as those entering could prove they were former slaves, and willing to hand over any weapons they carried. Agron and Nasir were among those given the job of scrutinizing those attempting to enter. Justinus helped Nasir, needing something to distract himself while waiting to hear from Brion, on how his conversation with Laeta fared.

While questioning one woman seeking refuge, Agron heard of the progress of the men under Crassus's leadership. The numbers were far larger than any the rebels had been forced to face before, and they were now only a half day's march away. Agron hurried to Spartacus's side to share this new information. Just as Agron finished repeating the woman's story, a cry erupted near the entrance to the gate. Someone shouted, 'Fucking Romans', and women screamed. Nasir instinctively jumped onto the large pedestal, where the winch and rope used to raise and lower the gate was set up. He released the lock holding the gate open to prevent anyone else from entering. It was obviously too late to keep out the few Romans who had tried to enter in disguise. Knowing who to fight was easy as they drew their hidden swords. Spartacus rushed to the fight, while the others were forced back by the panicking crowd. Spartacus easily dispatched two of the men who came after him, but there was a third. When he turned to confront the one remaining, he saw that the man had already been defeated. A blond stranger straddled the interloper's body and was stabbing him repeatedly. When Spartacus thanked the man for his help, he smiled and expressed pleasure in killing one's enemy.

Spartacus, learning long ago of the deceptive nature of Romans, had a natural suspicion of what he did not know as fact. His appreciation did not preclude him from demanding proof from the brave fighter that he actually was a former slave. The man willingly showed a deep wound on his thigh where he claimed his slave brand once rested. The nasty cut on his flesh was real, although it was not a brand he had removed. The man, unbeknownst to the rebels was none other than one of Rome's greatest fighters, Julius Caesar. He had been sent, by Crassus, to infiltrate the city for the purpose of gathering information and fomenting discord among the rebels. Without knowing it, Spartacus had just allowed a venomous snake to enter the bosom of the rebel forces. It would prove the undoing of everyone's security for the foreseeable future, and the beginning of the end of the rebellion. But it would not happen overnight. First would come a betrayal from another source that should have been recognized far more clearly than the scruffy Roman in disguise.

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While Spartacus held counsel with his Generals, Nasir returned to his favorite task... the training of those who had few skills in the art of warfare. Nasir took pride in his ability to teach the lessons he'd learned so well from Spartacus himself, as well as from his lover, Agron. Justinus was one of those Nasir enjoyed teaching most. The young man was just beginning to handle his sword with slightly more skill, although he still had much to learn. It did not take Nasir long to see that Justinus was distracted during his training this time. He dropped his guard repeatedly. Nasir was about to suggest Justinus take a break, when he heard Brion calling out to his friend. Justinus apologized when he lost his concentration for the third time as he turned towards Brion's voice. Nasir excused his friend, telling him to return once he was able to give his lessons more diligent attention. Justinus expressed his gratitude, set his practice sword aside, and joined Brion. The couple walked off, Brion's arm draped around Justinus's shoulder. They didn't stop until they were out of earshot of all others. Wasting no time, Justinus came right to the point.

"Break words, and tell of meeting with Laeta," he begged Brion.

Brion pulled his lover close, their foreheads touching. 

"Ease mind, Justinus. The woman is that rare thing among Romans... a lady of honor. She gives promise of discretion. She has no desire to be cause of more bloodshed."

"You lay trust on her word?"

"I do. We are absent choice, but to trust."

Justinus still had doubts, but he knew Brion was right. They had no choice but to trust that Laeta would not expose their lies. Justinus had been mulling over an idea. The fact that they had no one to trust enough to confide in had been bothering him since the beginning. As his friendship with Nasir grew, Justinus saw a side to his friend that was not full of hatred for all Romans. He observed Nasir's distaste for the cruel way their Roman prisoners were treated by many of the rebels. It was a major difference between Nasir and his lover, Agron, although the couple did not let it create a rift between them. Because of Nasir's attitude, and their developing friendship, Justinus felt it might be safe to confess their secret to the Syrian and petition his support... but only in the case of exposure. They could beg his discretion otherwise. Justinus felt that now was not the time to ask Brion's opinion on his thoughts, but he would do so very soon. If Brion did not agree, Justinus would say nothing to Nasir. He knew Brion's life would be at risk just as much as his own, simply for harboring a Roman. 

"You speak wisely, Brion, as is always your way. I have need of that wisdom with further thoughts, but now is not the time. We will break words on these other matters in private tonight."

Brion gave Justinus a questioning look. He could see that his news had only given his lover a small amount of relief. It was obvious that he had much more on his mind, but Brion would not press for further discourse. He knew that Justinus would come to him when he was ready. The couple kissed, and returned to those tasks they were expected to perform for the day. Justinus returned to the training ground, where Nasir was in the process of chastising one young man who seemed terrified of the wooden sword he held. Brion returned to the stores of grain, to help log what little they had received from the pirates so that the amounts could be parceled out fairly for one and all. The remainder of the day progressed routinely and without further incidents, but there were dangers in their midst that went unrecognized all the while. One of those threats would affect only two men. One threat would imperil all.

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It had been a little more than a fortnight, and the air in the hidden room inside the house occupied by Spartacus had become almost unbearable to breathe. Ennuis, the previous owner of the house, had obviously planned well for the need of such a room, but not for such a lengthy period of time. The two men who shared the discomfort of this hiding place were almost at the end of their rope, when they accidentally stumbled on another secret known by Ennuis, but not revealed to them by the murdered slave. Ennuis had been wise enough to know that he would need to keep tabs on the outside world while hiding away inside his residence, as well as provide a means for some fresh air. It was Cassius who discovered a square piece of mortar low to the ground that could be removed from the inside. The trunk of a fig tree blocked the view of the men inside, but also kept people on the outside from noticing that there was a hole in the wall. With the block pulled out, Cassius and Craigh were now able to get a small amount of fresh air inside their confined space. They were also able to keep better tabs on how long they had been caged up in their self-inflicted prison by telling night from day. Most beneficial was that they also overheard enough conversations on occasion to know that the rebels were still in charge of the city. Most unfortunate for them, despite the singular benefit of the removable mortar, was that they were rapidly running out of drinking water and food. Whether they liked their chances of taking a risk or not, one of them was going to have to leave the hidden room and venture out, and it would have to be within a day or two. It did not appear that the Roman army was going to come to their rescue any time soon.

What neither of the men knew was that their chance of rescue was much better than they hoped for. Julius Caesar, Roman spy sent by Crassus, had been hard at work, in a matter of days, inciting discord among the rebels. He recognized the differences between the disposition of Spartacus and his Generals towards their Roman prisoners, and capitalized on it. He even went so far as to murder a Roman woman to prove his loyalty to the rebel cause. This action would prove valuable, by giving him the chance to be heard when inciting others to disobey the orders given by Spartacus. However, without knowing about Caesar's nefarious presence, Cassius and Craigh knew they were forced to go in search of supplies, in case their confinement continued on. They had no idea what waited for them outside the walled room, but it didn't matter. Death by starvation and thirst was no more attractive than death by the sword. So far the gods showed them favor. With luck, they would continue to do so.

To be continued......................


	12. Secrets Kept, Knowledge Gained

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justinus seeks Brion's advice on whether they should reveal their secret to Nasir, before it is exposed in some other way. Meanwhile, Caesar is extremely successful as a spy, gathering information while stirring up the pot between two separate factions among the rebels... those supporting Spartacus and those supporting Crixus, as the two leaders diverge drastically in their goals for the rebellion. But Caesar is not the only danger lurking in the shadows of Sinuessa.

Shadows formed and reformed against the walls of the sleeping chamber, cast there by the flickering flames of a single candle. Brion stared in awe at the beauty of his lover, sitting astride his hips as if riding a great stallion. The candlelight illuminated beads of sweat all over Justinus's body, causing them to sparkle as if there were tiny crystals embedded in his skin. The couple had returned to their private room after sharing the evening meal with Agron and Nasir. Agron was quieter than usual the entire time. It was obvious he was on edge and had too much on his mind, most of which appeared to be bothersome. Agron was the first to excuse himself and retire to his room. Nasir followed close behind after apologizing for Agron's moodiness. Justinus brushed the apology aside, remarking that Agron had good reason to be fretful, considering they had been forced to deal with the enemy trying to sneak into the city, along with distrustful negotiations with the Cilicians to worry about. All three men had heard Agron's opinion of the pirates and knew he doubted their veracity.

Once Brion and Justinus also retired to their room, Brion grabbed his lover from behind and pulled him close to his chest. His arms snaked around Justinus's waist, while his lips sought out a sensitive spot just behind his ear. He placed kisses there, while one hand moved down to cover Justinus's groin. It took mere seconds for Brion to feel the length of Justinus begin to expand and fill out. Brion's touch was all it took for the young Roman to become inflamed with desire. Brion loved the reaction he always got from his lover. He was more than happy to reward Justinus for his enthusiasm. He turned Justinus around, never taking his hand away from his prize. With his other hand, he seized the back of Justinus's head and pulled his face close to his own. Their lips melded together as tongues greeted one another warmly. 

Justinus was eager to repay Brion's attentions with his own. His hand reached for Brion's cock. It was already engorged and needed no other incentive, although Brion drew in a sharp breath at the touch of his lover. He savored the touch as much as Justinus did. They continued sharing kisses and caresses through their clothing for some time. The foreplay only stalled long enough for them to rid themselves of their tunics and subligarias. The moment the clothing was shed, the couple fell to their bed. 

The lovers shared equally in their lovemaking, each taking a turn while kissing, stroking, and tasting the other's manhood. Tongues reached for places meant to thrill, causing skin to shiver in response. Finally, Justinus begged Brion to take him, to make them one again. Brion loved nothing more than watching his lover's face as they made love, so he laid back and invited Justinus to mount him. Justinus straddled Brion's knees. He dipped his fingers into a small jar on the side of the bed, spreading the slick oil all around Brion's impressive cock, from tip to balls. He dipped a second time and reached back to coat the entry to his body. With preparations over, Justinus scooted forward until he was now astride Brion's hips. He leaned forward and kissed Brion passionately. Brion grabbed his inflamed cock and steadied it so that Justinus could feel the tip nudging at his sphincter muscles, begging them to relax and allow him in. It was a request gladly accepted, as Justinus straightened up and lowered himself slowly down the length of his lover. The ride had both men drenched in sweat as they took their time, stopping and starting their movements repeatedly to make the pleasure last as long as possible. As with all lovers, they reached a point of no return at last. Brion spilled his love inside Justinus, only moments before Justinus decorated Brion's chest with his own release. The couple grabbed a cloth they kept next to their bed and wiped themselves clean, after sharing several more kisses to end their evening. They settled next to each other on their bed and pulled the thick cover over them to keep out the night chill. Brion would have gladly drifted off to sleep, but Justinus's voice prevented it.

"Brion, does memory serve that I had words to break with you, of a matter most serious?"

Brion pulled back enough to see Justinus's expression. The look on his face was not what Brion expected after they had made such magnificent love. Concern colored his voice.

"I recall your need of my 'wisdom' on thoughts you carry, but recall no mention of seriousness."

Justinus suddenly felt nervous. He turned away from Brion.

"Now may not be time for such discourse. Matters of the mind can wait till better opportunity presents itself."

Brion sat up. He pulled Justinus back around to face him. 

"Your tone speaks otherwise, Justinus. Unburden thoughts now and see them lightened. I will not have weight of them cause distress."

Justinus knew by Brion's reaction that he could not delay what he wanted to ask. Not telling Brion what he was thinking would now only make his lover worry. 

"Concern does rule my thoughts, Brion. Laeta has given word to keep silent, truth we hide from Spartacus. You lay trust in her. I have no cause to doubt her either. Yet sight of her brings thoughts of discovery to the surface. We have need of a champion, Brion... someone to trust who would speak for us if truth is unveiled."

Brion said nothing for some time. Justinus could see the wheels turning in his head. He wished Brion would say something... anything. Finally, he did speak up.

"And who, by the gods, do you see as such a champion? No, wait! Let me speak his name. Nasir! Does my guess hit its mark?"

"I lay trust in him. Yes! His heart holds no hate for the innocent."

"Justinus, my eyes have witnessed his skills in fighting, and my ears have heard stories of his prowess at killing. His spear has ended the life of countless Romans."

"He but follows Agron. He would follow Agron into the jaws of Hell, if need be. His loyalty to his lover is beyond reproach, but their views part ways on matters of concern to us. I feel no fear of betrayal if we divulged our secret and begged discretion of him."

"Even so, and you guess correctly, what good would taking him into our confidence gain you? If Jupiter himself came down and offered to vouch for us, there are those among the rebels who would still see you to the afterlife and smile as you breathe your last. I count Agron among those. He protects prisoners now, only as loyal friend to Spartacus. I tremble at thought of his reaction if learning of our deception."

Justinus sat still, taking in everything Brion was telling him. He still felt uncomfortable hiding his true self from the two men he now thought of as trusted friends. Justinus had never had such a thing in his life before. His slave, Ethan, was as close to a friendship as he had ever come... that is, until Brion entered his life. Justinus had always found it difficult to relate to his peers while growing up. Nasir and Agron were the first men, outside of Brion, that he felt untroubled being with, except for the one great lie that he was burdened with. He sensed that he would be safe in revealing all to Nasir, but he had no wish to go against what Brion believed was right. He had gotten his answer, even if Brion had not bluntly stated he should not speak to Nasir on the matter.

"I would not have worry cloud your mind," he told Brion. "I seek your wisdom in all matters and trust your judgment, as no other. If you do not advise it, it shall not be done."

Brion sighed with relief. He had no intention of forbidding Justinus to speak to Nasir, but he had been nervously holding his breath in anticipation of what the young Roman might choose to do. He knew he could be wrong in advising his lover to withhold the truth for the present, but it was a risk he felt was better than the alternative. Only time would tell if he was right. The couple embraced and settled back down, taking up their now familiar position of Justinus resting safely within Brion's arms. As sleep claimed them, they were unaware of events happening very close by, which would affect their decision dramatically. 

*****************************************************

There was no rest for the man known as Lysiscus, a false name for a false man. His true identity was Julius Caesar, Roman sub-Commander of the army advancing on Sinuessa. His true self was hidden well enough to provide the spy free access throughout the rebel-held city. Caesar knew how to take advantage of this freedom skillfully. He spent entire evenings ferreting out intelligence for any weaknesses to be found among the rebels. There were a few. He also spent time gauging the strength of the leadership of the rebellion. That was a different story. The only chinks in their armor were the vocal disagreements over treatment of the prisoners. It took Caesar very little time to find one rebel, in particular, careless enough to provide information and help him foment discord with others over the question of the fate of prisoners. That man was Nemetes, another former slave from East of the Rhine, like Agron. Unlike Agron, however, Nemetes did not hold Spartacus in such high esteem. He was willing to follow the man for his own benefit, but chafed at the moralistic views Spartacus held. 

Caesar played on Nemetes's greed for loot that Spartacus kept for the benefit of all, and his desire to kill all Roman prisoners, to ingratiate himself with the rebel. During a drunken night at a makeshift tavern, Nemetes revealed vital information concerning the dealings Spartacus had with Heracleo, the pirate. Caesar wisely tucked that bit of information into his memory bank. It was not long after this fateful meeting that Caesar was given a golden opportunity to incite a riot among rebels who thought along the same line as Crixus, Naevia, and Nemetes in regards to the remaining prisoners. As he stood by watching, all those who chafed at the survival of any Romans took to the streets with blood in their eyes and weapons ready. Very few Romans remained alive by the time Spartacus learned of the riot and stopped it with a blade at the throat of Crixus. Once order was restored and Spartacus left, followed like a shadow by Agron, Caesar overheard Crixus agreeing with Naevia that separating from Spartacus seemed to be the only step they were now left with. Crixus favored going out to meet the forces of Crassus and his army, convinced they would be defeated as easily as all the other forces thrown at them. Spartacus counseled patience and remaining safely within the city walls. Caesar's smile behind the backs of the departing leaders spoke volumes. He knew a divided force would be no match for Crassus and his men.

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Several days passed after the riot broke out. The tension among the rebel forces and civilian slaves was so thick, it nearly choked off all the good feelings everyone first had when taking over the city. Loud arguments often broke out among the divided factions within the ranks. There were those who approved of the actions of Crixus and his followers, and those who thought it was far too cruel. There was very little middle ground. It was even affecting the relationship between Agron and Nasir. It wasn't that they actually fought, because Agron always sided with Spartacus, even on those rare occasions when he agreed more with Crixus. This was a relief to Nasir, who respected Crixus as a fighter and Naevia as a friend, but thought both were far too harsh in their hatred of the Romans. Even though Agron and Nasir did not get into disagreements, some of the closeness they had shared during the previous year was lost. Where they once spent hours talking about anything that came to mind, they now ate, worked, rested, and made love in relative silence. 

Although Agron was unable to put a name to what he was feeling, he found himself becoming more and more uncomfortable with the closeness that Nasir now shared with his new friend, Justinus. It was becoming clear that everywhere Nasir was, no matter what time of day it was, Justinus was close by. Nasir would not even allow anyone else to train Justinus in weaponry. Agron really liked Justinus. The boy was a quick learner and had a very pleasant personality. More importantly, he truly seemed deeply devoted to his lover, Brion. Agron was convinced he wasn't jealous of Justinus, or afraid that the young man would take Nasir from him. He never considered that there was more than one kind of jealousy... that it was not fear of Nasir leaving his bed for Justinus. It was more a fear that the two young men had so much more in common than he and Nasir had, and that their friendship was deeper than what he shared with Nasir. It wasn't only Nasir's body that Agron loved. He loved everything about Nasir, and needed all of him in his life. He wasn't willing to share the most important parts of his lover with anyone, not even a friend. He missed the easy camaraderie he shared with Nasir in the past, something he had not done with anyone else but his brother.

As for Nasir, he too had noticed the distance that had sprung up between Agron and himself. He hated it, but understood it. He knew that Agron was chafing at the bit, dying to leave the security of the city and move out to confront the enemy. Agron was a man of action, and sitting around, being forced to guard people he would have been just as happy to see dead, was causing him to feel stressed all the time. The one thing Nasir, even with all his wisdom, did not recognize was that his bond with Justinus was also causing anxiety. Nasir felt compelled to spend as much time with Justinus as he could. He had sensed, for some time, that Justinus was carrying a secret that weighed him down. Nasir had no clue as to what it was about, but he was certain that his friend would feel a lot better if he unburdened himself. For that reason, Nasir stuck close by and waited. The more they talked, the more he felt Justinus would trust him enough to open up. If there was anything he could do to help Justinus, he would. He had come to think of the young man as a brother... a worthy replacement for the one he'd lost when he was too young to know the importance of such a connection. What none of these men knew, was that their world would tip over and come crashing down around them in a very short time. Jealousies and secrets would soon be the least of their worries.

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After Crixus turned against specific orders by Spartacus to spare the remaining prisoners, the leader became leery of including his once-trusted ally in his scheme to rob Crassus of much-needed supplies arriving by way of Sicilia. Spartacus gave Agron the task of protecting the few remaining Romans who yet lived, including Laeta, while he paid for the use of Heracleo's ship to sail to Sicilia with Gannicus and his most trusted rebels. Heracleo remained behind to indulge his lust for wine and women while his second-in-command captained the ship. Unfortunately for the rebels, Heracleo allowed the wine to loosen his tongue. Caesar got an earful, learning of Spartacus's plans and the additional bounty that Heracleo would earn in helping Spartacus to use his ships next to create a surprise attack from behind Crassus's troops. Caesar was well aware that the pirate held no allegiance to anything but coin. The man could be bought only by the highest bidder. By the next morning, Heracleo had formed a new partnership, one that would turn the tide in favor of the Romans for the first time since the rebellion began.

It was on this same day that another Roman citizen came out of hiding for the second time since the city was taken by the rebels. Craigh was sent out by Cassius to find fresh supplies of food and water. He had attempted to leave their hiding place once before when the supplies ran dangerously low, but had stepped into a world of madness. His stealthy moves within the house were unnecessary, as the entire building was deserted. When he managed to sneak his way to the crest of the hill the estate was built on, he heard the screams of the dying and wounded from below. They were the same sounds heard when the city was first taken by the rebels. At first, Craigh felt a thrill course through his veins. Surely this was the sound of the Roman army retaking the city, he had thought to himself. But before he could act on it, he saw a man, dressed in filthy, yet still recognizable Roman garb, running up the pathway leading to the gate of the estate. He was followed closely by another man who was obviously a rebel, based on his appearance. The man in front failed to reach the gate in time to save his life. Craigh stood in the shadow of a large boulder, watching the Roman cut to ribbons in a matter of seconds. He had no way of knowing that half the rebels had rioted and rained down carnage on surviving Romans, but he wasn't lingering around to ask questions. He hurried back to his hideaway room, scrambling inside like a frightened rabbit.

Craigh's second venture out went quite differently. He was extremely reluctant to risk his life again, but thirst and starvation were now a certainty without making some kind of move. Once again, the area around the estate was deserted. He and Cassius were certain that Spartacus and his most important followers were using the Aedile's residence for their personal residence. It only made sense. It also explained some of the gossip they had overheard from the hole in their wall. It was also apparent that the leadership spent little time hanging around resting. That explained why the residence was empty during both of Craigh's forays outside the wall, even so late in the day. Craigh made his way for the second time to the ridge overlooking the city. He saw nothing new within the city itself, but one couldn't miss the large ship now docked in the bay. Craigh recognized the pirate flag flying from the highest mast. He wondered if the ship had been captured by Spartacus by sneak attack when it docked, or the pirates had willingly brought their ship in to make a deal with the rebels. Either way, it wasn't what Craigh wanted to see. There was no sign of any help from the army of Rome. They had both known that Crassus was building such an army. They should have arrived by now.

Rather than worry about things he had no control over, Craigh decided he had no choice but to gather as many supplies as he could and hurry back to his hiding place. He returned to the house he had just left. He would check the kitchen and larder first. Surely there would be what he needed there. If not, he would check out the two guest houses. Craigh clutched his dagger close to his body, and began his search, listening carefully for any sounds of approaching footsteps. It didn't take long to find what he needed. The only problem was that the food was not in large supply. There was plenty of water and wine to take without causing too much suspicion, but not near enough food. If he took as much as he wanted, it would be obvious to anyone that there was a thief amongst their people... one brave enough to steal from their leader. It could bring the risk of another search. Craigh thought it over and decided it was a lesser risk to take only a small amount of foodstuffs, and then go in search of more at the other houses on the property. He chose to head for the house he had shared with his son when first arriving in the city, since he knew the layout of the building. He next would go to the house Cassius stayed in if he needed to.

Craigh left the main house, sticking to the shadows cast by buildings and trees. So far, he still did not see or hear any signs of another human being nearby. He congratulated himself on his good fortune as he slipped into the side door leading into his previous residence. Suddenly, the unmistakable sound of laughter hit his ears, bringing him to a dead stop. Craigh retreated against the wall, his heart thumping so hard, he was certain it could be heard over the laughter. Moments later, he saw two shadows move against the far wall. Craigh pressed himself tighter to the wall hiding his body from view of the two men walking in the corridor between the entrance and the atrium across the way. He didn't dare steal a peek at the figures moving away from where he stood in abject fear, but in the next instant, he recognized the voice of one man. It was his own son, Justinus. He felt complete surprise. Justinus was a Roman. He had fully expected his son to become victim to the rebels. He doubted the bastard slave that bedded his son would have vouched for him and kept Justinus safe. Craigh had no faith in the kindness of a slave. Yet, somehow his son still lived, and was apparently in good humor. He held his breath as the couple stopped only yards away on the other side of the wall.

"Your face still bears witness to lesson not learned, Justinus. Your man will find fault with me, I fear." 

"Fault lies only on my head, Nasir. You warn of lowering guard before striking and each time, I do. If my face pays the price, it is well-deserved. I shall warn Brion against blame directed at you," Justinus laughed. 

If Craigh had more knowledge of who the second man was, he might have shown himself to his son. He knew it wasn't the slave, Brion, by the voice. Also the shadows on the wall were of two men of equal size... one of the things Craigh's sharp eyes took note of. No, he was not taking any chances by exposing himself. He also considered their last parting of the ways, which was far from pleasant. Craigh did not survive the turbulent times he lived in by making rash decisions. Instead, he would leave this place and try the second guesthouse to add to his supplies. He would then return to Cassius with this new information. He did not know yet what they could do with what he had just learned, which was not much. At least now he knew what had happened to both his son and Cassius's slave. They survived the attack by the rebels, and it appeared Justinus lived safely among them. Perhaps this knowledge would prove useful in future. Once Craigh heard the voices moving further into the house, he slipped back out the door he had just entered. There was no time to waste. As he left for the other house, he glanced back to where he knew Justinus was.

"Take care, my son. We shall meet again upon a day. And this time, our fates shall take a different turn."

To be continued.....................


	13. Changes in the Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An innocent scene between Justinus and Nasir causes a rift between Nasir and Agron, but there is something even more disturbing in the air. It could possibly put all other concerns aside for the immediate future.

Nasir stood his ground, refusing to allow Agron's foul temper to intimidate him. Agron had become more and more irritable ever since Spartacus disappeared from the city. Nasir had no doubt that Agron knew where their leader was, but he wasn't divulging any information. This was unusual, because he had always trusted Nasir with everything he knew in the past. Spartacus had been gone for days now, and all during his absence, Agron felt the pressure of protecting the few remaining Roman citizens who had barely managed to survive the riot. Nasir had allowed that this was reason enough for Agron to act out of sorts lately, even with him. It was for this reason that he had been trying to be patient with his hot-tempered lover. But this last temper flare-up was going too far, and Nasir had had enough. Now he knew that there was more to Agron's behavior than the stress of a rebellion stalled by warring factions within their ranks.

It all stemmed from a silly incident that happened the night before. Nasir had been training Justinus harder than ever while Lugo, a close friend of Agron's, was training Brion. Brion appeared to have a natural skill at swordsmanship, and it was obvious to Nasir that Justinus wanted Brion to be equally proud of his abilities too. His skills were nowhere near as sharp as Brion's, but it didn't deter the young man from trying. By the time the sun began to set this particular day, both young men were exhausted. When they returned to the villa in the evening, they found their house empty. Brion had left the training grounds shortly before they did and must have been detained with important business. Agron also had not returned yet. With both their lovers busy elsewhere, the friends decided to wash off the sweat of their labors so they would be fresh for their men when they arrived home.

The house, as with most homes owned by wealthy men, had a large bathing pool set up off the atrium, along with a changing room. The friends made their way there. In no time at all, they were stripped down to a towel wrapped around their waists. The custom was to work up a sweat in the caldarium first and then use the strigil to scrape the dirt and sweat from their bodies, before entering the soothing waters of the pool to complete the cleansing. Ennuis spared no expense, even in his guest houses. The strigils were made of the finest metal and felt comfortable on the skin. The water was pure and heated by large pipes running below the marble flooring of the pool. Nasir and Justinus spent a long time relaxing in the warm waters, letting the tensions of the day drain from their bodies. When they got out of the water, they stretched out naked on mats that lay side by side to relax and let their bodies dry naturally. Their casual conversation began to wane as drowsiness overcame them. 

The sound of Brion and Agron calling out for them when they entered the house did not wake either of the young men, who had fallen into a deep sleep, either as a result of the day's labors or the relaxing bath. The guest house was only half as large as the main house, but there were a number of rooms to search to find their missing lovers. Brion went in one direction, while Agron another. Unfortunately, it was Agron who checked the bathing rooms first. The sight that greeted him was far from a welcome one. In their sleep, the two young friends had turned on their sides, Justinus facing Nasir's back. Justinus's arm had reached out, and his hand now rested on Nasir's stomach. A fear, far worse than any felt when facing the enemy, gripped Agron. His fists clenched. There was no telling what he would have done, or said, if Brion hadn't appeared behind him at just that moment.

"I've found no sign of...." 

Brion stopped in his tracks. Agron turned as Brion started to speak, giving him a clear view of what Agron had been staring at. Without really looking at Agron's face, Brion responded to the sight before him.

"I see you've had better luck. Their day's labors have robbed us of their company. Should we let them rest or disturb their slumber?"

Brion finally looked at Agron. The smile on his face vanished at the sight. His friend obviously found no humor in what they were witnessing before them. Brion was not concerned. He knew full well that Justinus thought of Nasir as friend, and friend only. Agron did not appear to feel the same way about Nasir. Brion had never felt the need to worry about the friendship between his lover and Nasir. He hastened to reassure Agron. He laid his hand on Agron's shoulder.

"Your face betrays your thoughts, my friend. Your worry is for naught. I lay full trust in loyalty of Justinus, as I know you must for Nasir."

Agron shrugged Brion's hand off his shoulder. 

"I will take my meal elsewhere. Pray tell Nasir, when he wakes from fevered dreams."

Without another word, Agron pushed past Brion and left the room. Brion felt deep concern over this turn of events. If such an innocent thing, as Brion knew the scene to be, could anger Agron so deeply, what would knowing the truth about Justinus cause the rebel to feel? Brion was more certain than ever that he had been right in counseling Justinus not to divulge their secret, even to Nasir. But for now, he knew he must awaken the friends, and warn Nasir of Agron's reaction to finding them together. He joined the two men, squatting down to shake them.

"Justinus...Nasir...you must rouse yourselves. We must speak of unpleasant things."

It took two attempts before the sleeping men became aware of their surroundings and sat up, rubbing at their eyes. 

"Wha...what is happening," Justinus mumbled. It was then that he realized who had awakened him. "Brion...why such disquiet on your face? And did my ears hear words of unpleasant things? Is it the Romans?"

By this time, Nasir was sitting up too, and watching Brion. 

"Where is Agron? If trouble brews within the city, I must find him."

"If tongues are silenced, I will give voice to meaning. Agron and I came upon you, asleep together. Agron did not take kindly to the sight."

Nasir started to interrupt, but Brion held up his hand, silencing the Syrian. 

"You lie as a couple, with Justinus's arm embracing you. I am familiar with this. His habit is to reach for me in his sleep. Agron does not know this. His eyes beheld his lover, naked beside another, with tender touch upon his skin."

"I felt no such touch," Nasir stated irritably. "Nor did I respond to it. Tell me where he has gone to brood."

"He has left the house. He speaks of taking his evening meal alone. I am certain a cooler head will prevail. I advise patience. The man needs time for reflection."

"You judge correctly. Agron is quick to anger, but sees reason when presented facts. I will break words with him when he is of a mind to listen." 

Nasir turned to Justinus. He could see concern in his friend's expression.

"Worry not, my friend. We will break bread at early light, then continue training." Nasir turned to Brion. "Justinus works hard to make you proud. He is as ready for battle as any of the young men most recently joined to our cause."

"Pride is one emotion, among many, I feel for Justinus. Gratitude for instructing him in skills that may save his life in future."

Nasir nodded his acceptance of Brion's appreciation, gathered his discarded towel, and left the couple alone. Justinus still looked worried, as he too grabbed his towel and covered himself.

"You do not question my faithfulness, Brion?"

"I am no fool, Justinus. Your heart is known to me as if my own. If your heart beat for another, you would speak of it. Secrets lie heavily on one such as you. Trust is another emotion I hold close to heart when I think of you."

"Pride and trust, Brion? And do you also know that no other could ever take your place in either thought or deed? For, it is so. Agron shall never have cause for jealousy where I am concerned. Do you believe he will know that to be true before our friendship is broken beyond repair? It is a thing, I wish to prevent. Nasir loves Agron as I love you. Perhaps Nasir must avoid me, if only to ease Agron's mind."

"Nasir's loyalty is to Agron, but his mind is his own. Do not distress yourself. They will come to an understanding. Now let us share meal and take to our bed. When arm next embraces, it will be with me." 

That was how the evening ended. Brion and Justinus retired to their room, but Nasir could not eat or rest. He spent the entire night waiting for Agron to reappear. It never happened. He finally fell asleep, alone in their bed. When he awoke, there was still no sign of Agron. Nasir went in search of his lover. Agron had never stayed away from their bed at any time in the past, unless he was sent out on an undertaking by Spartacus that didn't include Nasir. After checking to see if Spartacus had returned from his secret mission, and discovering that he had not, Nasir thought he knew where Agron would be. He was right. Spartacus trusted no one but Agron and his allies to guard the very few Romans who had miraculously survived the riot. He felt he could no longer trust Crixus or any of his compatriots. All those who still lived, including Laeta, were now being guarded inside one of the main buildings in the center of the business district of the city. Nasir was allowed inside the courtyard by one of the men who recognized him as Agron's 'boy'. He spotted Agron standing nearby, his eyes staring irritably at Laeta and the others. His look didn't change when he noticed Nasir striding purposefully towards him. He started to turn away, as if to leave. 

"Agron, pause a moment," Nasir begged.

"Spartacus is due upon docks, so I'll greet his return," he responded, starting to move on.

Nasir grabbed his arm. "And I would have much needed words," he answered back.

"I yet have none to break," he stated tersely, pulling away and walking off.

Nasir had no intention of letting Agron dismiss him. He followed behind his angry lover.

"Is it a common trait among men East of the Rhine to run from a problem?" 

That stopped Agron in his tracks. He turned back to Nasir.

"No, but I have found that it is a Syrian trait to use words as sweet as honey, that turn to shit when desiring to lie with another."

"I have not broken trust with you," Nasir proclaimed.

"And I am to believe that you lie naked in the arms of Justinus in absence of his man, and you still stand only as friends?"

"As I would believe you... in all things." 

This was said with such honesty, that even through the red fog of anger, Agron could see the truth of it. Shame filled his senses... but he had no time to react, or apologize. It was at that very moment that his good friend, Donar came rushing in, breathlessly announcing that they had a serious problem. He quickly explained that Agron was needed at the main gate of the city. It was not far from where they were, so all three men arrived at the gate quickly. Word had already spread that there was something afoot, so they had to push through a gathering crowd to reach the gate itself. Among those gathered were Brion and Justinus. Agron ignored both as he elbowed his way to the front of the crowd, Nasir and Donar right behind him. Crixus and Naevia stood at the top of the city wall, looking out towards the main road where Roman soldiers had been spotted approaching from a distance. 

"How many crest hill?" Agron shouted up at them.

"Thirty, by count. Perhaps more concealed by dawn's mist," Naevia answered.

"Scouts," Nasir surmised. "Their numbers stand too few for advance."

Naevia, ever the provocateur, warned Crixus that their numbers would swell and overtake them if they didn't do something immediately. Taking his cue from her, he looked down on the still-gathering crowd and urged them to gather weapons and open the gate to attack the small band of soldiers as a warning to Crassus. Agron protested that it was not a move Spartacus would approve. When Crixus did not pull back from his goal, even Donar sided with him, but Agron again protested.

"You do not lead these people," he reminded Crixus.

"Perhaps it is time I should," Crixus shot back. 

A voice from in back of the crowd shouted Crixus's name. It was Spartacus, newly returned. When he questioned Crixus as to what was happening, Agron quickly answered first, informing Spartacus of what Crixus planned to do with the gate.

"I would see it opened as well." 

"At last, he falls to fucking reason," Crixus laughed.

"You mistake me. I do not give command to see Crassus's men engaged."

"Then what moves purpose?" demanded Crixus.

"I would see what remains of our Roman guests released."

Reactions to these words were swift. Most were surprised, some angered. One.... Caesar... stood to the side, smiling like a cat who caught a bird in flight. Crixus and Naevia were enraged, and protested. Spartacus did not back down. He warned Crixus that he had lost all right to a voice in the matter, then turned to the crowd. He warned any who did not follow his orders that they would forever be banned from the rebel encampments. There was nothing more to say. He turned on his heel and left, ignoring the death glare of his former second-in-command. He was followed by those he trusted most, including Agron and Nasir. The crowd slowly dispersed, many shaking their heads in confusion. Among them were Justinus and Brion. They hurried back to their house. This new strategy was completely unexpected. Brion knew in his heart that changes were coming, and coming rapidly.

To be continued.................


	14. Intrique & Deception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Major changes that everyone within Sinuessa has been expecting are just beginning. It all starts with intrigue among the leaders... even touching those who are not what they seem, as well as those not seen at all. But what part will deceptions of all kinds play in the coming events?

"Cassius, rouse self!"

The sound of Craigh's excited voice, although at a whisper, was enough to penetrate the tired brain of his companion. Cassius recognized almost immediately that there was something different in the way Craigh was acting. Both men had been lethargic for several days, despite having acquired extra food and water through stealth. Being cooped up inside their hiding place in the wall of Ennuis's house was draining mentally, as well as physically. Neither man thought they would last much longer hiding like vermin inside the walls. Cassius was intrigued by whatever had made Craigh so animated. He then noticed that the removable mortar had been pulled from the wall. That explained why Craigh was whispering. 

"What news has brought such fervor? Has careless gossip from outside given hope to our cause?"

"Yes!" Craigh answered, obvious pleasure in his voice. 

"Then break words and share favorable news. I am in no mood for guessing games."

Craigh smiled broadly. "Voices spoke of Roman soldiers outside the city walls. Crassus has arrived at last. There is even talk of Spartacus going mad. They say he is releasing all Roman citizens yet holding breath. Now is our time to appear and join with those about to be given freedom."

Cassius looked at Craigh incredulously. 

"Has madness taken over brain? If we appear suddenly from hiding, what reason do you think the rebels will take for our being hidden away?"

He did not wait for an answer.

"We will be called spy... Fool! Have they any reason to believe we have learned nothing of their future plans while hidden away? Would you release one that you suspect carries such knowledge, to impart it to your enemy?"

Craigh lowered his head and sighed deeply.

"Desire to leave this Hell has shortened sight," he finally admitted. "But then, what do we do?"

Cassius said nothing for some moments as he pondered their situation. Finally, he spoke up.

"We do not sit and wait. Everything has changed with the presence of Crassus at the rebel doorstep. They will be too engaged in preparation for defense to scrutinize every movement around them. It is time for us to spy in truth. We will stand as heroes in the eyes of Crassus when we tell of what we learn."

"And how do we go about this spying? Has memory failed? There are two among them who know us by sight... my son and your slave. Neither holds us to heart. If discovered by them, we are guaranteed swift journey to the afterlife."

"We will go in disguise and stealth, not by announcing our presence as a General receiving a triumphal march," Cassius said, with more than a hint of exasperation in his voice.

"It is a risky move," Craigh responded.

"A move worth the risk. When Crassus retakes the city, would you wish to enlighten him on where we spent our days and nights since the city fell into the hands of the rebels? We did not even venture out under cloak of darkness to sabotage or create chaos wherever possible. I know the mind of Crassus. He will not take kindly to such cowardice."

"Is it cowardly to preserve one's life if opportunity presents itself?"

"In the eyes of Crassus... yes! I know the man's mind."

Craigh had also heard tales of Crassus and the way he treated both friend and foe. If Cassius was right with his assessment of Crassus's reaction to what they had been doing since the rebel takeover, then Craigh wanted no part of it. The men made up their minds that they would wait until the middle of the night before finally taking leave of the hellish sanctuary they were forced to use. Hopefully they would never see the tiny room again.

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Not far from where the human rats made plans to escape undetected, another unsavory character was also making plans. He was now aware that Spartacus had sent Heracleo across the sea with some of his men, and was waiting for the ship's return so that more could make the crossing, in order to strike their enemy, Crassus, from behind. He had learned all about the secret plans, that even Crixus was not privy to, thanks to the drunken blatherings of Heracleo before setting sail with the first contingent of Spartacus's men. Upon learning this, Caesar wisely waited for his opportunity to reveal his true identity to the avaricious pirate before he set sail, along with making an offer of vast riches, far exceeding what Spartacus could provide, if the pirate would betray the rebel leader. Recognizing Caesar's name, and knowing of Crassus's immense wealth, Heracleo instantly agreed to the betrayal. 

Although Caesar was pleased to discover that Spartacus was releasing the Roman prisoners after Heracleo made the first crossing, he was also wise enough to know the true reason behind the unexpected move. He had no doubt that Spartacus wanted Laeta to pass on certain information he allowed her to know about his plans. Crassus would not, however, hear of Spartacus's true intentions from her. It was a maneuver that he would have chosen himself, if given the opportunity. Now all he needed to do was wait for the return of Heracleo. He knew what the pirate was bringing back on his return trip.

In the meantime, Spartacus was indeed allowing Laeta to hear of his plans, or at least what he wanted her to hear. Before he spoke to her, however, he had one other important task to perform first. He had to make Crixus understand what was really happening, and garner his support in his schemes. The meeting between the two powerful men did not start out calmly. Crixus was still seething over the decision to release the Roman prisoners, as well as Spartacus's refusal to engage any of the Roman soldiers still visible outside the city walls. Spartacus did not spare the angry man's feelings. He laid out his reasons for keeping Crixus in the dark about his true intentions. Once Crixus understood that he would be given the opportunity to strike the first blow at Crassus by moving from the city through the mountain pass, that had been called impassable in Winter, much of his fury dissipated. Crassus would believe, thanks to Laeta, that the rebel leaders had parted ways over disagreements, leaving Crixus and his followers weakened inside the city while Spartacus and his followers set sail for Sicilia. It was a plan Crixus found acceptable, finally being in agreement with Spartacus. All that was left to do was spread word among all those left within the city, excluding those specially chosen by Spartacus for the sea voyage, that they would be joining Crixus in a march across the mountain ridge. The city would still appear to be inhabited by rebels, thanks to preserved bodies of the dead Romans, lined up along the walls in full display for Roman scouts. Before Crassus could become aware that he had been fooled, his army would be attacked from both sides and routed, if the gods favored the rebels. What none of the rebel leaders knew was that Crassus was receiving a message from Heracleo at the exact same time that Laeta was being questioned about her knowledge of rebel activities.

***********************************************************

Craigh and Cassius stood off in the shadows of the alleyway between two buildings and watched fevered activity happening in front of them. They had slipped quietly from their hiding place the night before and made their way stealthily down the hill from Ennuis's estate. They wasted no time in their search for a couple of drunken men wandering through the streets. It took little effort to slit each man's throat, then hide their bodies under trash piled high on the side of the building... first removing their moderate clothing for personal use in order to appear as ex-slaves themselves. Dressed in disguise, and with unshaven faces, they felt certain they could now pass as any other member of the rebel encampment. They had only one goal, and that was to learn as much as they could about the rebels so that they could convince Crassus they had been spying all along. 

The pair's first day of freedom proved to be quite successful. They were able to discover that the little bit of gossip Craigh had overheard earlier was indeed true. The Roman prisoners were released that very day. Craigh wanted to be among the crowd that hung around to heckle the Romans as they left the city, believing they might slip out the gate without being noticed in all the confusion, but Cassius counseled discretion. Avoiding as many rebels as possible might prevent their discovery. They also heard all the talk about gathering supplies together once the gate was closed behind the Romans. Both men were well aware that such activity could mean only one thing... the rebels were about to make a move. It appeared obvious that they had no intention of continuing their occupation of Sinuessa. This was welcome news, indeed. This would give them two opportunities to improve their lot. One would mean sabotaging as many supplies as possible, if the right moment presented itself. The other meant that they could then hide themselves away again until the rebels were gone. Then they could open the gate themselves. Surely, Crassus would appreciate both maneuvers on their part.

The best part of all was that they had already found an even better hiding place... one that was far less uncomfortable than the hole in the wall. While exploring the city before sunrise that first night, they stumbled on the barn that housed horses belonging to the soldiers who once guarded the city. The barn was nearly deserted. They were not aware that dwindling food supplies had forced some rebels to butcher almost all the horses for their meat. What few that were left were mostly aged and unfit for warfare. At best they could be used as pack animals. There were piles of hay stacked up at the rear of the barn where the men could be hidden from view. But before they could go back to the barn to rest for the night, they first had to see what kind of trouble they could cause the rebels, without risking their lives. Craigh and Cassius pulled the hoods of their stolen cloaks over their heads and left the safety of the alleyway. 

***********************************************************

Brion, Justinus, and Nasir faced Agron. Agron had returned the previous day to apologize for his suspicions the night before when he found Nasir and Justinus asleep together, but there was still a slight chill between the four friends. Agron told Brion and Justinus of Spartacus's orders to release the Roman prisoners at that time. Now he was returning from a war counsel with Spartacus to warn all three of them that their suspicions concerning serious changes coming were about to come to fruition. 

"We are to leave this place by nightfall tomorrow," Agron informed the men.

"Why do we leave safety provided by city walls? Was purpose behind prisoner's release to buy time for escape?" asked Nasir. 

Agron pulled Nasir to him.

"I cannot give voice to all that lies within the mind of Spartacus, but we follow him to Sicilia upon return of Heracleo's ship, where we join those already landed and waiting for us. Crixus takes another path with his followers... also accompanied by those unable to fight. They will cross the mountain ridge behind the city, coming up behind Crassus's army. Crassus will be forced to divide his troops to battle from both sides. We are confident of victory as we crush his divided forces between us."

Agron turned to Brion and Justinus.

"You two must follow Crixus. Spartacus takes only seasoned warriors with him. There is limited space aboard ship for this final crossing."

"I will follow you!" Nasir stated emphatically.

Agron pulled Nasir closer, kissing his face.

"I would have it so!"

"We will do what you ask," Brion agreed. "Whether drawing Roman blood from front or rear, no difference will be seen."

Brion reached out his hand to Agron. The men clasped forearms.

"I regret temper that tore at our friendship. We will meet again as brothers on field of battle," Agron stated, looking Brion straight in the eye.

Justinus laid his hand over the joined forearms. Nasir did the same. The four friends stood together, silently reaffirming their connection. They then parted, retiring to the bedchamber that they would sleep in for the very last time. They would need their rest. The next day would be one of hard work, with little respite. If all went as planned, the following evening would find Agron and Nasir aboard Heracleo's ship, while Brion and Justinus would sleep in a tent upon the cold ground of the mountain pass.

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Caesar slept in the arms of the nameless whore he chose for his final night as a spy. He had need of sexual release of the built-up tension, mixed with anticipation, he had been feeling ever since his secret meeting with Heracleo. His energy level was sky high. He knew what the morning light would bring. Unbeknown to Laeta, she had no doubt already given her false report of Spartacus's plans to Crassus. But if Heracleo was true to form, the pirate had also given Crassus the note Caesar wrote, carrying true information about activities within the city. Following that disclosure to Crassus, he expected that the ship was already on its way back to the port of Sinuessa... but not returning empty, as Spartacus expected. His only task, come morning light, would be to strike without warning the moment Heracleo docked his ship, unloading the surprise cargo he carried. 

As Caesar explained in his note to Crassus, he would have no trouble reaching the main gate and raising it with the support of the Roman soldiers Heracleo carried. He expected all the leaders, including Spartacus himself, to be either dead or captured by the time the sun set. And knowing how clever Crassus was, he suspected the General would have his own plans for any rebels who might escape from the city through the mountain pass. The moment the gate closed behind the last of the Roman prisoners, word spread quickly that the city was to be abandoned. Caesar knew what that meant. Some rebels would indeed escape the grasp of his soldiers, but they would not be free for long. Caesar was certain of that. So with thoughts of a great triumphal march through the capital city of Rome, to the very steps of the Senate, filling his dreams, Caesar slept with a smile on his face.

As he slept, two stealthy figures moved quietly from one part of the city to another, always in deep shadow, looking for unattended wagons laden with supplies. Despite their caution, they were unable to find any that had been left unguarded. Despite the fact that only allies of the rebellion were supposed to inhabit the city now, Spartacus had given orders that guards were to be on duty throughout the entire night. The man was cautious to a fault, in the eyes of Craigh and Cassius. There were a few occasions when they could have easily overpowered a guard, and then destroyed the wagon and supplies he was in charge of, but such a move would raise an alarm long before the two men wanted it known that they were there. They soon gave up and returned to their new hiding place, to get a good night's rest. They were not privy to all that was about to happen, but they sensed that they would not have long to wait to find out. As they drifted off, buried deep within the barn behind the piles of hay, they each thought about the one man they most wanted to see caught by the soldiers. For Cassius, if his former loyal slave was caught and crucified, he would not feel an ounce of remorse. For Craigh, if his son was caught and crucified, he would not speak up for him, nor shed a tear. They had chosen their path of betrayal, and neither man cared one iota what their fate would be.

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Thick fog from the sea hung over the city like a shroud. The early morning Sun failed to burn through, causing buildings and inhabitants to be blanketed in a gray mist. The city was already awake, despite the early hour. There was a great deal of work to be completed before the exodus from the city could begin. Everyone, from seasoned warriors to those followers with no discernible skills, was given assignments that had to be fully achieved by the time the Sun lowered in the sky. Agron, Nasir, Brion, and Justinus shared a final meal together in their temporary home. They would be taking different paths on the coming journey. Brion and Justinus would follow Crixus by land, while Agron and Nasir would follow Spartacus by sea. All four men prayed that they would meet again once Crassus was defeated. Agron was the first to leave the house. He had to meet with Spartacus to discuss last minute details. Before leaving, he reminded the other three men about their responsibilities for this momentous day.

Brion was sent off to the armory, where all the extra weapons were stored. He would be in charge of loading them onto the wagons. He would then be required to check on all the food supplies that were being gathered throughout the city. The rebels were no different than any other army. Records needed to be kept of what was available for everyone, and it was a task that Brion gladly took on. His skills at management had already proven useful to the rebellion. Justinus had planned to join Brion as his assistant, but Brion knew he was afraid he might never see Nasir again. The two young men had formed a brotherly friendship that meant a great deal to them both. Before leaving to start work, Brion suggested that Justinus join Nasir as his assistant. The smile on both their faces told Brion that his suggestion was a welcome one. Before leaving the house with Nasir, Justinus hugged Brion and gave him a loving kiss.

"Gratitude," he whispered in Brion's ear.

"Hurry, or you will fall behind. Nasir is eager to put hand to task. We shall meet at end of day at the Northern gate, to join with those who follow Crixus."

Justinus kissed Brion once more and hurried to catch Nasir, who was already half-way to the gate. The two young men disappeared from view as they took the path from Ennuis's estate down to the city. Nasir was tasked with gathering warm clothing, tents, bedding, and other essentials needed for their journey across the Wintry ridge. He would have plenty of assistants available, but he was glad to have Justinus with him also. He looked forward to their conversations during the occasional break that would be taken throughout the day. He did not voice it, but his thoughts also ran to the possibility of never seeing his friend again. War was no guarantee of survival for any soul caught up in it. 

The day moved along swiftly. When the fog lifted, one could see, as well as hear, all the activity going on in the city. By mid-morning, when most took time out for a meal, a great deal had been accomplished. The Sun set early at this time of year, so it would not be long before people would begin their trek from the city. Nasir and Justinus sat together and enjoyed their meal and pleasant conversation together. They knew that they would part ways in a matter of hours. They had just finished eating when one of Nasir's other assistants appeared, obviously in some distress. He hastily told Nasir of his discovery... one of the horses they had hitched to a loaded cart appeared to be lame. In all the fever of activity, no one had noticed it earlier... not until they had tried to move the horse and cart towards the Northern gate. The heavy cart would either have to be pulled by hand, or the horse replaced. They could not afford to leave behind the supplies the cart carried. 

"Where are we to find a spare horse?" Nasir complained.

"All Roman cities house horses for use by soldiers hired to protect them. I saw such a building when exploring the city. Perhaps an animal yet lives there that can be put to use," Justinus informed Nasir.

"I've heard tales of the slaughter of the horses for meat."

"I can attend to the location and report back," Justinus offered.

Nasir thought quickly. "No, we go together. If the gods favor us with one adequate creature, it may take us both to protect it from butchers. I will follow your lead."

Only moments before Justinus led the way to the former barrack grounds of the soldiers, Cassius and Craigh returned to the stables for the second time since being awakened by the sound of rebels appearing at the entrance to the barn at first light. The men removed the few horses left in the barn. Not long after the intruders left, without discovering them, Cassius and Craigh also left the barn in search of food, and with the intent of making another attempt at sabotage. It didn't take them long to realize that they were risking too much. There were far too many people who might easily question why the two men appeared to have no assigned duties, like nearly every other able-bodied man. They returned to their hiding place until midday, when they again set out to see what else they could learn about the coming movements of the rebels. They had just settled back into their hiding place for the second time when they heard the faint sounds of men talking. The sounds grew louder, letting them know that their hiding place was again being visited by rebels. 

Cassius and Craigh buried themselves even deeper into the corner where the hay was stacked. They held their breaths, praying that no one was coming to gather the hay, since there were no horses left inside the barn. Craigh's heart sank. It suddenly dawned on him that they had been lucky so far. It was foolish of them not to realize that the rebels would probably want to load the hay, as well as the other supplies. It would be needed for the horses pulling the carts. He quietly whispered his concern to his companion. Each man's hand lowered to the knife he carried in his belt. They realized that they might have to fight their way out of the barn if rebels began to gather the hay. The voices got even closer. Craigh suddenly caught his breath, grasping Cassius's arm in a tight grip.

"I know who speaks," he whispered intently.

Cassius looked puzzled.

"Justinus, my son!" he hissed.

By the time Craigh recognized his son's voice, Justinus and Nasir had walked the length of the building, hoping to see signs of at least one living animal. When they reached the back of the barn, they paused in front of the large stacks of hay pushed into the far corner.

"We are too late," Justinus complained.

"True words. There is not a mount to be found." Nasir looked behind him. "But, your memory of this place may yet bear fruit. Before we take leave of this cursed city, we must see to the hay. It will serve as fodder and warm bedding on ridge covered in snow."

"Shall I procure a wagon and men for loading?"

Justinus's words threw a scare into his father and Cassius. If they did nothing, their chances of being caught by someone who knew their true identities was almost certain. They could not allow either of the two young men to leave the barn and bring back help. They had no choice. They would have to stop the couple from leaving, no matter what it took. Their only advantage... the element of surprise.

To be continued.........


	15. Fight For Survival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war between the rebel slaves and Roman masters has finally been brought to the gates of Sinuessa in the form of Crassus and his mighty army. But it is the threat from within that turns the tide against the rebels, forcing them to fight for survival. Two young men have to fight harder than most, as snakes finally strike and reveal a secret that could destroy one of them.

Julius Caesar, a successful Roman spy among the countless ex-slaves who have joined the rebellion led by Spartacus, stood in the narrow alleyway leading to the docks of Sinuessa. He felt incredible excitement, mixed with nervous energy. This was it. The moment Heracleo's ship pulled into port, Caesar knew it would be his time to strike. He could see Spartacus and Gannicus standing on the dock, waiting impatiently for the ship's arrival. It was already later than expected. He smiled to himself. He knew that Spartacus would not be pleased by what the ship carried, hidden below deck. His hand rested on the handle of his knife. He was prepared.

In the meantime, the exodus from the city, by way of Melia Ridge to the North of the city, had finally begun. Crixus and Naevia took their place at the Northern gate, doing their best to move along people, laden carts, and animals in as organized a way as possible. Agron and Brion worked together orchestrating the placement of preserved Roman corpses along the main walls of the city, in hopes Crassus would believe the city was still occupied by the rebels after they were all gone. Brion was anxious to finish their task so that he could make his way to the Northern gate, where he knew Justinus would be waiting for him. Agron was just as eager to finish. He hated the thought of sailing in Heracleo's ship... his memory of last being on water was aboard the Roman slave ship... but at least he would be with Nasir and Spartacus. And this time he would be sailing towards freedom, not slavery. 

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As Agron and Brion hurried to complete their task, their lovers were struggling to loosen the ties that kept them bound. Justinus was in even more distress than his companion, Nasir. Their mouths were gagged by material torn from their tunics. Justinus struggled hardest to force the gag from his mouth. His hatred rose like bile in his throat when his own father laughed at his success in catching him off-guard, and then bragged to Cassius that Crassus would reward them for capturing two of the rebels single-handedly. The fact that Crassus would most assuredly torture his son seemed of no concern to Craigh, making Justinus's hatred even stronger. But the worst was yet to come. He had seen the look in Nasir's eyes when he heard what Craigh said, once he and Cassius had them both subdued. 

The element of surprise worked perfectly for Craigh and Cassius. When Justinus asked Nasir if he should leave the barn to find more men and a wagon to load the hay piled high at the back of the building, Nasir agreed after taking a moment to decide. It was just enough time for Craigh and Cassius to make a decision. Justinus had not taken two steps away from Nasir when they both heard noises coming from one corner of the pile of hay. It was a trap, set in a moment of desperation by the two concealed men. Cassius moved to the other side of the haystack quickly while Craigh lured Justinus and Nasir towards him by making groaning noises. When Nasir and Justinus cautiously edged around the haystack, they saw a figure with his back to them, leaning heavily against the far wall. Nasir approached and tapped the man on his shoulder.

"What name do you go by, and what purpose brings you to this place?" Nasir asked.

The man leaned even further towards the wall, one hand supporting his weight against the wood, while the other seemed to clutch at his stomach. He said nothing. Nasir tapped him again, while Justinus waited.

"Come with us, friend. We will lend help for whatever ails you."

There was still no answer, but in the silence, Justinus and Nasir heard movement behind them. They turned and saw the figure of another man rushing towards them. Cassius had circled the hay and come up behind the two young men, catching them off-guard. In an instant, Justinus recognized the man's face. He tried to shout a warning to Nasir, but was slugged so hard that he fell to the ground, his ears ringing from the blow. Nasir was a trained fighter with lightning reflexes. His hand flew to his knife, but before he could pull it from its sheath, he felt the pain of a blade sliding into his back. The man behind him had been feigning, and was now ready to make his move. Nasir knew he could fight back as long as he was conscious, but what he saw in front of him stopped him dead in his tracks. He slid to his knees and watched in horror. The second man was kneeling on the ground next to Justinus, who was obviously disoriented, and had a knife aimed at his jugular. The slightest movement of the blade, and Justinus would bleed to death. Nasir could not take that chance.

Nasir might have still fought his capture, if given a chance, once the second man moved away from Justinus, but in less than a heartbeat, he was hit with a great deal of force by the heavy handle of the knife his assailant carried. He fell into unconsciousness. Justinus was beginning to regain his senses, and saw what his father did to his friend. He tried to rise, but was stopped when he felt Cassius's blade nick his throat. A tiny trickle of blood coursed its way down his neck.

"Move again, and see more blood spilled," Cassius warned.

"Murderer!" Justinus hissed, looking straight at his father.

"Calm yourself. Your 'friend' yet draws breath. I barely cut him. By scars upon his body, he has borne far worse. Make more noise, and I will gladly bear the name you call me," Craigh warned. 

"We must bind and hide them until the city is free of rebels. We shall truss them up as gifts for Crassus," Cassius decided.

Craigh nodded his agreement. Together, they tore strips of cloth from the clothing of Nasir and Justinus and used it to bind their hands and feet, then placed a gag to keep them from crying out in case anyone else showed up at the barn. They then dragged their prisoners to the very spot they had used to hide themselves. It was not long before Nasir began regaining his senses. He found himself bound and gagged. He felt movement beside him and saw that Justinus was in the same predicament. He did not see anyone else, and believed they had been abandoned. He had no idea who had attacked them or why, but he wasn't panicked. He knew that Agron and Brion would never leave them behind. His eyes locked on Justinus's eyes. He saw fear in them. He wanted to reassure his friend, who had never been in a battle for his life before. It was nothing new for Nasir. But they could not speak to one another. Nasir tried hard with a look to give Justinus hope. It didn't seem to be working. 

Shortly after he regained his senses, Nasir's hopes faded too. Their attackers had not left them behind as he had thought. He had been trying to wriggle his hands free, but the binding was too tight. That's when he saw the two men reappear. Nasir saw Justinus's eyes widen... abject fear clearly displayed on his face. Nasir did not recognize either man, but he was surprised by their actions. They were not dressed like the enemy. However, they had to be Roman spies who had obviously infiltrated the rebel ranks in some way, as there seemed no other explanation for their actions. Nasir felt more anger than fear. If they would just remove his gag, he could at least question the strangers. If he was to die, he wanted to know why, and by whose hand he breathed his last. He began squirming in frustration. The bigger man reached out with his foot and kicked Nasir, the toe of his sandal connecting with his thigh.

"Be still, insect!" the man ordered.

Cassius turned to Craigh and pointed at Nasir. 

"By Jupiter's cock, that one has balls. He shows no fear... not like your son, who looks ready to piss himself."

Craigh frowned. "He stood brave enough when given opportunity to leave his lover and side with us. Now he stands weakened on his own."

Cassius laughed. "Indeed... but he is not alone." Cassius squatted down and tapped Nasir's leg. "He has a new champion. Perhaps my slave no longer satisfied your son's appetites, and now he beds this tasty morsel."

Nasir was confused. What in the world were these men talking about? And why did they keep looking at Justinus while discussing the 'son' of one of them? Nasir observed a change in Justinus's countenance. He no longer looked afraid. He looked what best could be described as enraged. It was a look Nasir had seen many times with Agron, especially in battle, but never before on Justinus. Then, a very strange thing happened. The smaller man walked over to Justinus and squatted next to him. He ran his hand almost lovingly through Justinus's thick blond hair, causing the bound youth to do his best to pull away from the touch. Then the man rejoined his companion.

"Are you certain you want to deliver him to Crassus?" Cassius questioned Craigh.

"It is not a thing I do with cheerful heart, but he was dead to me long before I was even aware of it. If the gods bless me, I will someday be given a son to bear my name without shame, unlike this one."

"Then we must make haste. The hour grows late and the sun will begin to set soon. We must observe rebel movements to know our time to strike, and raise the gate for Crassus."

Cassius and Craigh took one more moment to make sure their prisoners were still bound tightly enough, then made their exit. Several minutes passed, with neither of the young men moving. Nasir was trying hard to make sense of what he had just heard. Justinus was both angry and afraid. He wanted to explain himself to Nasir, more than anything. He wondered if he had made a mistake in taking Brion's advice, and not confessing who he really was to Nasir much sooner. Of course, if they could not get free, it would no longer matter how he had handled himself. It was obvious that Cassius and his own father intended to turn them over to the Roman army, and that would mean certain death. For a brief moment, Justinus felt sorrow and guilt... sorrow that he would never see Brion again and guilt that he had not confessed to Nasir. If he had, then there was the chance Nasir would not be facing the same fate. He did not have long to think about any mistakes he may have made because Nasir was not staying passive any longer. Nasir knew that any questions he had for Justinus had to wait. They needed to free themselves first if they were to survive. 

Both of the young men twisted their hands until they ached, in an attempt to loosen their bonds. They lay on their sides several yards apart on the ground. They were facing each other. Suddenly, Justinus flipped himself over, grunting into his gag with the effort. He began scooting his body painfully along the ground, slowly closing the gap between them. He began wiggling his fingers. It only took Nasir a second to understand the message. He too flipped over onto his other side and scooted the short distance now between them. It took more than one try before they could feel each other's hands. It was a long, slow process, fraught with discomfort from the effort, but eventually Nasir was able to loosen Justinus's bonds just enough for him to wrench one hand free. With both hands now free, Justinus sat up quickly and tore off his gag. He next removed the ties around his ankles. 

Justinus knew that Nasir was no fool. Even if Nasir did not fully understand everything he had heard between Craigh and Cassius, he was quite capable of putting together the pieces of the puzzle. But it didn't matter. He didn't hesitate for a second. He quickly set to work loosening the ties around Nasir's wrists. The moment his hands were free, Nasir tore off his gag and got to work on the restraints of his ankles. Once free, he jumped to his feet. He faced his friend, Justinus. He had questions... many that needed answers, but now was not the time for words. He grabbed Justinus by the arm and began pulling him towards the aisle between the horse's stalls that led to the front of the barn. Justinus hesitated.

"We must break words, Nasir. I know questions flood your thoughts."

"No! No time for words... we must warn the others!" 

Nasir yanked on Justinus's arm again. He pulled back once more. His eyes showed surprise.

"We? You still lay trust in me?"

Nasir did not hesitate. "We must warn the others!" he repeated.

This time Justinus did not pull away. Nasir began running to the front of the barn, Justinus hard on his heels. Neither man carried a weapon of any kind, having them taken by Cassius and Craigh. They kept a sharp eye out for their captors, having no wish to battle again with no defenses. The streets they traveled were deserted. They had a long way to go to reach the main gate, where they hoped to find Agron and Brion still at work. They feared they'd be too late. It appeared that nearly all the common folk among the rebels had already made their way to the Northern gate to follow Crixus. That would mean that those following Spartacus would soon be at the docks to board Hearacleo's ship. The only thing Nasir and Justinus wanted now was to find their lovers, or someone in command that they could report to... someone who could stop the spies from their nefarious plans to open the city gates for the Roman soldiers. They rushed on, desperation erasing the pain caused from their struggles while being held captive. They silently prayed they would not be too late.

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At the same time that Nasir and Justinus were in the throes of freeing themselves from their restraints, a ship was finally pulling into port. Spartacus and Gannicus watched with anticipation as Captain Heracleo stepped onto the dock. They were not placated by the pirate's apologies for being so late. His explanation for being detained meant nothing to them. Spartacus wanted to get his people on board as soon as possible, knowing that those that were following Crixus had already begun their journey. It was important for both factions to arrive at their destinations at approximately the same time for their plans to succeed in boxing Crassus's men between them. Heracleo was still grinning at Spartacus when he was asked about the whereabouts of Sanus, the man Spartacus sent with Heracleo to keep an eye on things. That's when Heracleo's face changed. Warning bells went off in the heads of both Spartacus and Gannicus... learned from years of instinctual self-preservation in battle. 

"He is gone from this world," Heracleo announced.

"He fell to the Romans?"

"To their desires, and to the weight of more coin than even a 'King' could offer," referring to the nickname Heracleo had given Spartacus upon meeting him.

Heracleo stepped several feet back, flung his cloak over his shoulder, and withdrew his sword. At that instant, his second-in-command threw back the large tarp covering the entryway to the hold of the ship, revealing the presence of dozens of fully-armed Roman soldiers. Heracleo apologized as the soldiers made their move to leave the hold. Spartacus and Gannicus instantly took up the defensive position they had learned well in the past, pulling their swords out. It was at that very moment that Caesar finally made his move, striking out at Spartacus from behind, the blade of his knife cutting into the cloth of Spartacus's shoulder and nicking his skin. He was knocked away by Gannicus. It became an all-out battle for survival, with the two rebel leaders hopelessly outnumbered. Spartacus spotted one of his men, who had just arrived to board ship, and shouted an order for him to warn the others. The man hurried away, intent on bringing reinforcements for his leaders. Only their tremendous skills, combined with Caesar's order for half the men to follow him to the main gate, kept Spartacus and Gannicus from being slaughtered. One Roman after another misjudged their ability to beat the trained gladiators, and died by way of their swords, falling lifelessly onto the cold-stone docks. Even Heracleo and his second-in-command were cut down, falling into the icy waters of sea. 

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As Caesar and his soldiers ran through the streets towards the main gate, Agron, Brion, Donar, and Saxa were finishing their work at the wall. Agron was just descending to the ground when they heard the sound of running feet approaching and men shouting. Through the darkening street, they saw the uniforms of Roman soldiers coming at them, led by a man they thought was one of their own. They drew their weapons and prepared to fight, knowing instantly that somehow they had been betrayed, and sensing that more soldiers were waiting outside the gate. They would defend the gate with their lives, if need be. The battle was fierce, with Agron calling Caesar a traitor in a brief moment when they locked swords. Caesar proudly pronounced himself a Roman, and they broke apart, continuing their conflict. During the bloody melee, Caesar ordered his men to raise the gate. When Agron saw what was happening he ordered Donar to sever the rope so it couldn't be raised. Fierce fighting for control of the gate ensued between Donar and two of the soldiers. The gate was lifted nearly a foot, briefly revealing the feet of those waiting outside, when Donar struck a blow that severed the rope in two and brought the gate crashing back to earth.

Agron and Brion were soon surrounded by Roman soldiers, giving Caesar the chance to break away from the fight momentarily. The two rebels fought valiantly, dispatching several soldiers together. Brion quickly gave proof that he had learned his lessons well in handling a sword. After several long minutes of fevered conflict, the rebels appeared to have routed the Romans. Then they discovered their mistake in not taking Caesar down first. While his soldiers fought for their lives, Caesar grabbed several large jugs of pitch and tossed them directly onto the wooden gate, followed by a lit torch. Agron was closest to Caesar and rushed him just as the torch lit up the wood. He was able to knock Caesar to the ground. Before the man could regain his footing, he found himself confronted by the four rebels who had just decimated his soldiers. Agron pointed his sword at Caesar's heart. 

"Whatever your plan, it dies with you, Roman," Agron growled. 

The sound of wood cracking suddenly filled the air directly behind where Caesar was sprawled on the ground. The rebel's eyes were riveted to the gate, which was now covered in licking flames. In the blink of an eye, they saw the source of the sound as a battering ram from the other side struck a second blow, causing the wood to splinter even further. The rebels backed away, surprise written on their faces. They raised their swords higher. Caesar rose to his feet and leveled his sword at them. The four rebels backed up again, prepared to stand their ground. Before anyone could make a move, Agron and Brion heard familiar voices behind them shouting.

"Agron, look out!" screamed Nasir.

"Brion, behind you!" shouted Justinus.

All four turned abruptly at the sound and saw two men, dressed as fellow rebels, rushing towards them with swords high in the air, ready to strike. The rebel's survival instincts kicked in instantaneously, and they parted... Agron and Donar to the left, with Brion and Saxa to the right. Cassius and Craigh were no match for the seasoned warriors, or even the lesser trained Brion. Cassius and Craigh were moving so fast that they were unable to slow their momentum, and fell face forward into the dirt in front of Caesar's feet, when tripped up by Agron and Brion simultaneously. There was no time for thought. The rebels knew the two men were not friends of the rebellion, despite their dress. Without a single moment of hesitation, they drove their swords into the backs of both men. At that very instant, a third blow slammed into the wood of the gate and it gave way, the dragon head of a battering ram bursting through. The rebels backed up again, their swords lifted in defense. By this time, Nasir and Justinus had reached them. They bent down to remove the swords still clutched in Cassius and Craigh's hands. They stood beside the others, prepared to fight with their men. Caesar glanced back and saw that the hole was growing larger as burning wood fell to the ground. He grinned and turned to face the six rebels.

"Now would be time to run," Caesar warned them.

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Only minutes before the first blow from the battering ram struck the city gate, reinforcements arrived to aid Spartacus and Gannicus... among them were Crixus, Naevia, and Lugo. The carnage continued, with the Romans no longer having the advantage of numbers. One by one, they were cut down. When the last soldier lay bleeding on the ground, the rebels regrouped. Briefly, Spartacus considered using Heracleo's ship to get some of his people away from the city to safety. That hope died when they looked out to sea. Dozens of Roman ships appeared on the horizon, sailing towards the port. They no longer had any choices. 

"Fall back to the ridge," Spartacus ordered.

Many of those who had been a part of the evacuation with Crixus and his people had already left the city, but many more had yet to reach the Northern gate. Spartacus and his followers moved quickly to warn all they met of the advancing Romans who would soon land in Sinuessa. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Spartacus, Caesar's plan to open the main gate for Crassus had succeeded. Agron, and the others with him, tried valiantly to fight off the first few soldiers who made it through the fiery gate, but quickly realized it was a hopeless cause. Agron gave the order to fall back. He didn't need to repeat himself. The rebels turned and ran, hoping to find Spartacus. It was their only chance for survival. As they rushed through the narrow streets, only minutes ahead of Crassus and his army, they ran right into Spartacus and many others. Agron angrily told Spartacus of Caesar's success and the fall of the gate. Spartacus now knew that all avenues of escape had been effectively blocked, except for the mountain ridge behind the city. The order was given to take flight and abandon the city. 

As the group of rebels turned towards the Northern gate, the air was suddenly ripped by screams of agony. It was clear that the Romans who had entered through the main gate were making their way through the streets in search of those unfortunates who had tarried too long in the city. Whether they were old, lame, sick, women, or children, they were put to the sword without mercy when found. Spartacus knew there was no way to save them. They were hopelessly outnumbered now, with some of their best fighters already gone... serving as guides and protectors for those who had passed through the Northern gate first. Their only hope for living to fight another day was for everyone to leave the city behind and retreat to the ridge. There, they could regroup and make plans to reach the other side of the mountain through Melia Pass, just as Crixus had been expected to do before their plans were aborted. Once they were outside the reach of Crassus and his army once more, they could decide on a new course of action.

Spartacus began running for the Northern gate, followed by the rest. It was not an easy task, reaching their destination. Several times they ran into small groups of soldiers who had scattered throughout the city in search of victims. Each time, more blood flowed from Roman veins as experienced fighters decimated their ranks. Even Justinus cut down one Roman, although he would have been struck down himself if Brion had not seen the threat behind Justinus and run his sword through the soldier's back. Finally, the leaders were all gathered at the gate. The hundred or so souls who had not departed through it yet, had heard the screams and knew what was happening. Spartacus ordered them to move faster, and fear guided them forward much quicker than earlier in the evening. Only a handful remained at the mercy of Crassus, Caesar, and their army when they appeared at the end of the pathway to the gate. 

Spartacus ordered his men to follow those who had passed through in order to protect their rear. He shouted another order to lower the gate, sealing off the Romans from pursuit. Crixus grabbed a pitch-filled jug and threw it onto the rope that held the gate aloft. Spartacus grabbed a nearby torch and flung it onto the rope, setting it ablaze. Crassus ordered his men to attack. The fighting was brutal, as each strand of the rope burned and split away. One by one, the rebel warriors broke free and raced for the other side of the gate. One second before the final strand of rope burned through, Spartacus turned away from the enemy and raced for the gate himself. The gate began its descent... Spartacus hit the ground, rolling under the gate, as it fell with a tremendous thud. The soldiers rushed forward, but it was too late. Crassus stood facing the gate with a strange smile on his face. He knew something Caesar did not. He would bide his time. The city was now his. He had won the battle for the city, but lost his prize... yet the war was not over. Not by a long shot.

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As the sun began to rise over the mountain peaks, it looked down upon the frozen ridge. It was covered with tents and campfires, and thousands of men, women, and children despairing of their future. Among them were two couples, both grateful to be alive and in their lover's arms again. The couples had parted, each taking possession of their own small tent. Agron and Nasir huddled closely under furs to share the warmth of their bodies. Earlier, when first arriving on the ridge, Agron noticed the wound on Nasir's back and assumed it was received while fighting the Roman army. Nasir said nothing to dissuade him as Agron gently tended to the wound. He had no wish to speak of the questions in his mind until they could be answered by his friend, Justinus. Meanwhile, Justinus also shared body heat with his lover, Brion. But he did not keep silent about the events that occurred before he and Nasir saved the lives of their loved ones. As Brion took in all that Justinus told him, he wondered what difference it would make that Nasir had probably learned their secret. All their lives were probably forfeited now... for when they reached the ridge, they discovered why Crassus was in no hurry to pursue them.

Spartacus, Agron, Crixus, and Gannicus had scouted ahead after making camp for the night. What they discovered was a deep pit, at least four people wide, that had been dug all along the entire length of the ridge. On the other side was a wooden wall, built high enough to look down into the pit, and manned by Roman soldiers. The fate of anyone trying to get across the pit to reach the other side was clear by the bow and arrows the soldiers carried. The pass was indeed impassable now. Crassus had used his vast wealth to trap the rebels like lambs led to slaughter. There was no way out. They could not get across the pit and move forward, or turn back to face the vast numbers of Roman soldiers behind them without losing their lives. Only a miracle could save the rebels now.

To be continued......


	16. Escape From Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rebels now find themselves trapped on Melia Ridge, with no obvious means of escape from the threat of Crassus's mighty army, let alone survival when a merciless snowstorm bears down on them from above. Where is the miracle they need so desperately if any of them are to live to fight another day? And what of the great secret now shared between Nasir and Justinus?

Two nights and days of Hell passed without a moment's letup from the suffering. The only blessing that came from the raging snowstorm, which struck early on the first morning that the rebels made camp on Melia Ridge, was that the blinding snow kept Crassus's army from leaving Sinuessa and pursuing them. It gave Spartacus and his Generals more time to try and find a way out of their dire circumstances. Unfortunately, not a single practical idea materialized. A number of desperate rebels made an attempt to reach the other side of the great pit separating them from freedom, and each one fell to their deaths, arrows and spears piercing them several times over. The second night was the worst. Temperatures dropped so low that even makeshift tents, heavy furs, and constantly stoked fires could not keep the chill out of bones already aching.

Despite the miserable conditions, daily life had to continue as best it could under the circumstances. The rebellion had lost at least a hundred of its followers, mostly those who had foolishly waited too long to gather at the Northern gate, and also a couple dozen proficient warriors during their escape from the city. Luckily, none of the losses included the leadership of the rebellion. During their time on the ridge, Agron was unable to spend much time with Nasir. Being Spartacus's right-hand man, he was with him for hours on end. The two of them, along with Crixus and Gannicus, did everything in their power to figure out a way to escape from Crassus and his army, once the storm finally abated. On top of that concern was the task of keeping their followers from panicking. There were enough food supplies, shelter, and fire provisions to last for at least a fortnight, but then they would begin to face starvation, as well as facing the elements without a reliable source of warmth and heat for cooking. Brion was again asked to keep an eye on the supplies, making sure that the provisions didn't disappear suddenly without knowing where they'd gone. There was always the fear that desperation would turn good people into thieves.

Brion and Justinus had more than the miserable weather on their minds that first morning they woke up in their private tent. Before falling asleep in each other's arms, Justinus told Brion the whole ugly story of the encounter he and Nasir faced with Craigh and Cassius. Brion suspected that a couple of the bruises his lover carried came from those two bastards and not the soldiers they had to fight to escape. It made his blood boil picturing Justinus at the mercy of those hateful men. He was happy that he had taken the life of one of them, although he hadn't known who they were at the time. Both Craigh and Cassius had grown full beards during their time inside the walls and wore clothing that successfully disguised them. No one had the time or desire to check their identities at the time they were killed. Brion learned of their identity when Justinus revealed it, and informed him that he had no regrets at the loss of his father. Then he explained that there was one regret. He told Brion of the conversation between Craigh and Cassius that Nasir overheard. He went on to tell him that there had been no time to explain himself to Nasir. Because of this, the couple knew they might have to deal with repercussions in the morning.

When morning came, the storm delayed any chance of getting Nasir alone to ask him what he was thinking about what he had learned in the barn. Spartacus himself came to Brion's tent to ask for his help, while Justinus was asked to assist those given the task of making sure that all the people had a safe place to ride out the storm. It was not an easy job, because the snow was blinding as it flew into their faces as they traveled from one camp site to another. The wind was so strong that it often blew them backwards, slowing them to a crawl. When they decided to stop for a meal, they returned to the main tent where the cooks had prepared food to distribute to the people. That was when Justinus finally spotted Nasir. He had also taken a break from his duties to grab a meal. Nasir was responsible for checking on the wounded and sick. Not everyone was able to handle the trek up to the ridge unscathed while fleeing from the city. Justinus made his way over to Nasir. His heart was beating so hard, he was certain his companions could hear it through the howling storm outside the large tent. Nasir stood in line to receive his bowl of hot soup. His back was to Justinus. Justinus tapped him on the shoulder. Nasir turned and smiled. 

"It warms heart to see you survived the night," Nasir grinned. "Though that be all that feels warmth."

Justinus was taken aback. Nasir was acting like nothing had changed between them. His friend was joking with him, as they often did when together.

"It warms heart to see you yet smile, after threat caused by disgraced acquaintances," Justinus confessed.

"Set mind to rest, Justinus. You bear no disgrace in my eyes. We choose not our blood, but do our friends. I know your heart. It bears kindness. If you be Roman born, it was without stain of cruelty or ill intent. Replace fear of discovery with assurance of secret kept safe."

"What of Agron? Is it not betrayal to keep this from him? I would not have either of you hurt by misguided loyalty to me."

"Yours is not my story to tell. When you are ready, you will choose the time and place for revelation. Meanwhile, fill your bowl and let us return to my tent. I confess to curiosity how you came to this plight, and with Brion at your side."

Nasir smiled again. This time, Justinus smiled back. He could not believe his good fortune. He was certain that if he had made friends with any other rebel, his fate would have been much different under the same circumstances. He did not like placing Nasir in the position of keeping anything from Agron, but he was deeply grateful for it despite that. It would give him more time to discuss things with Brion and determine when and if they should make a confession to their compatriots. And, of course, this all depended on whether they lived to see their future. As of now it didn't look guaranteed. Once the friends reached the tent, they huddled together while drinking their soup. Justinus commenced to reveal all of his story, including the affair with Brion and his father's reaction to it. He explained how that had led to the place and circumstances where the two of them had been found by Agron and Nasir, and why they chose to conceal his true identity as a Roman by placing Ethan's collar around his own neck. When he reached the end of his tale, Nasir assured him for a final time that his secret was safe. They hugged and parted ways to return to their work.

The second night on the mountain was even worse than the first. The storm tore the heavens apart with the rage of a cornered beast of prey. Wind whipped mercilessly through the encampments, trying its best to pull tents from the ground and scatter anything as far away as possible that was not heavily secured. Far too many people lost the only security they had during the night, being exposed to the vicious elements. When morning came, the snow and winds continued mercilessly, although not with the same demonic strength. It allowed Spartacus and his men the chance to check on the damage created during the long night. They were shocked by the large number of frozen dead they found scattered throughout the various campsites. At least two out of every ten human beings and none of the pack animals survived to see the light of day. 

Later on, after Spartacus gathered Agron, Crixus, and Gannicus together to discuss this new tragedy to befall their people, he was suddenly hit with an idea that sounded barbaric at first. He was almost afraid to present it to Agron, Crixus, and Gannicus for fear they'd think he'd gone mad. But these were desperate times. It was no time to be timid. He waited for the others to present whatever ideas they had come up with for resolving their impossible situation. They all knew that the end of the storm would bring Crassus and his army straight from the city to confront them in their trap. But every idea the leaders brought up would only lead to the same end... countless deaths to the point of annihilation. Only the means to their end changed with each scheme. Spartacus finally realized he had to speak up. After all, he was certain that those who had died would not be bitter if they could serve a purpose in saving the lives of their companions with one final gesture. Spartacus called for silence. His face was stern, yet determined. He knew that what he was going to suggest was necessary if they were to have any hope of escape.

With all voices silenced, Spartacus began to lay out his plan. It started with gathering up all the frozen bodies of their dead and dropping them down into the pit, spreading them out as wide as possible while still reaching to the top. It had to be done quickly, while the heavy snowfall blinded the watchers along the wall on the other side of the pit. Very few men still stood guard... the majority of the soldiers being certain that no one would attempt to drop into the pit and climb their way out the other side in such weather. Those few that still stood in place along the wall were far too busy trying to keep out of the bitter, cold wind blowing from the direction of the rebel side by crouching behind the wooden pillars. It left them unable to keep an eye on what was happening on the other side of the wall. If the rebels worked fast enough, a human bridge would be created to span the chasm between the rebels and deliverance. There was no time for delay. Spartacus sent messengers throughout the encampment to prepare the survivors for what was coming, and to seek volunteers for the unpleasant task of lining up bodies along the pit. 

Agron hurried off to his tent to inform Nasir of the plan. Nasir was practical enough to recognize that it was a choice that Spartacus had to make, despite the fact that many would mourn leaving their loved ones and friends behind, once they'd crossed. His heart ached for those people, but he had long since learned the harsh realities of rebellion. Agron next hurried off to the nearby tent that housed Brion and Justinus, while Nasir left to join the others already initiating the collection of bodies. All able-bodied men were needed for the disagreeable job ahead. When Agron popped his head inside the tent, he found the couple just finishing the sparse meal they shared before checking to see what would be required of them for the day. Brion felt a brief moment of anxiety when he saw the look on Agron's face. Although Justinus had already told him everything that passed between he and Nasir when they had their 'talk', Brion was still on guard. Brion tended to trust Nasir, yet he knew how close he was to Agron. A small part of him found it hard to believe that Nasir could or would keep such an important secret from his lover. So when he saw the stern look on Agron's face, his heart stilled for a beat.

Agron did not waste time with preliminaries. He immediately laid out the entire plan for escape in as brief a fashion as possible. If he expected Brion or Justinus to be repulsed by the idea, he was wrong. The couple had no wish to die at the hands of Crassus and his army, or at the mercy of perverse gods who delighted in turning mere mortals into ice statues. Following Agron's orders, they too rushed off to gather the dead, after a last kiss to remind themselves why they wanted to live. Agron followed. It took more than an hour for the arduous undertaking to be completed. It took another hour for all the fighting men and women to form lines at the lip of the pit, weapons in hand. By this time it was mid-morning. They would have been sitting targets if not for the blessing of a storm still holding tight to its course. Spartacus knew he was gambling their lives on his belief that there were not very many soldiers waiting for them on the other side of the wall. He was certain that Crassus would not waste too many of his men on something he did not believe would be needed. The only way to defeat a man was to think like him, and Spartacus knew he'd keep the majority of his men with him so that he could throw his full weight at the enemy while their backs were to the wall. If he was right, all would end well.

Every man and woman stood ready now. Agron reached for Nasir and pulled him in for a final hug and kiss. Brion did the same with Justinus as he stood at Agron's other side. Spartacus gave the word, and the force moved across the human bridge en masse. No one looked down... all were grateful that the bodies were stiff like stone, making it easier to maintain an illusion that their walkway was not comprised of people they once ate, drank, joked, and fucked with only days before. As soon as the first wave of rebels had crossed over, consisting of Spartacus and his deadliest warriors, grappling hooks were flung over the high walls above them. The sound, as the hooks struck home, finally brought rebel activity to the attention of the guards on duty. They made the mistake of leaning far over the edge to try and see what had caused the noise. It was their last mistake. Arrows from below found their marks and the soldiers fell. The rebels scrambled up the ropes and cut down what little resistance remained along the wall. Before jumping to the ground on the other side, Spartacus paused with his men and stared out over the terrain that had been hidden from view until now. There was a small encampment of soldiers a hundred yards away, but they were not yet alerted to what was happening at the wall.

Spartacus ordered his men to use their weapons to break through the structure, making it easier for the rest of their people to reach the other side. The men set to work immediately. It did not take long for the flimsy wooden barrier to crumble like twigs, so warriors and refugees alike were free to escape from the certain death Crassus had planned for them. As if the gods found themselves amused by the ingenuity of the rebels and wished to reward them, the wind suddenly died down. The snow still fell, but it no longer swirled around like a rabid dog gone berserk. Vision improved greatly. The rebels could see the soldier's tents and the result that accompanied the sudden abatement of the storm. Soldiers began pouring out of their tents. Those men were greeted by the shocking surprise of countless rebels rapidly amassing along the barricade Crassus had ordered built less than a week before. The call went out to prepare to fight at the exact moment that Spartacus led the charge of his warriors.

The soldiers were hopelessly outnumbered. More and more rebel fighters poured through the gaping hole in the wall and rushed forward to do battle with the enemy. Snowflakes soon landed on bloody remains of dead Romans, turning into pink slush in gaping wounds. In no time at all, there was not a living man of Crassus's force left on the battleground. Spartacus was grateful that his hunch had paid off. Crassus had been so cock-sure that the rebels would never escape their trap, that he had assigned a single Centurion with less than a hundred men to guard the wall. Now he hoped his second hunch would prove true too. The storm was slowly dying out. Crassus and his legions were ensconced comfortably within Sinuessa, secure in the knowledge that their foes were freezing and starving to death in their deadly trap. He hoped they'd be in no hurry to leave the city and confront the rebels. If the situation was reversed, he knew he'd wait even longer for the enemy to weaken further, making their slaughter quicker. 

When the final remaining soldier breathed his last, Spartacus called his Generals together. He ordered them to spread word that there would be no further delay. The way was now clear for flight, and they had to put as much distance between them and Crassus as possible. No one hesitated. The rebels were on the march again. Fortunately for them, Spartacus was right about the way Crassus was thinking. Snow continued to fall for two more days, although not again with the force it had earlier. Crassus made no move to check on the enemy, expecting to receive an update from the front once the storm cleared away. On the morning of the third day after Spartacus and his people left the ridge, Crassus was awakened early by one of his Centurions. The man was obviously upset. They had expected to receive a report from those guarding the wall by now, and had heard nothing. Crassus felt a sudden chill, but put it down to the wintry morning air. Still, it was time to confront the enemy. The snow ceased falling during the night. Crassus, his son, Tiberius, and Caesar marched from the Northern gate at the head of his legion of over five thousand well-fed, well-rested men. He expected the campaign against Spartacus and the rebels to be a swift victory, and to have the pleasure of seeing the head of Spartacus on a spike by nightfall. His expectations were shattered upon arriving on the ridge. Rather than returning to Sinuessa in triumph, Crassus made camp at the wall and sent men back to order the second legion to join them, along with supplies needed to chase the rebels down. He sent a scouting troop forward to track down the rebels and see how far they'd gotten. All Crassus and his men could do now was wait. They had not come prepared for anything but a battle. Another day would be lost as Crassus sat cursing the gods and himself for once again underestimating his enemy. He vowed it would never happen again.

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The sun had long since set before Spartacus finally called a halt to their trek on that first day. Too many of the old, very young, and infirm were falling behind, which forced Spartacus to assign his best men to guard the rear. After camp was set up, scouts were sent out to gauge whether they were being followed. They returned with reports of no sightings of the Roman army. Agron, Nasir, Brion, and Justinus sat together discussing the events of the last few days. It was somewhat awkward for everyone but Agron, who still believed that it was just dumb luck when Nasir and Justinus showed up at the city gate just in time to prevent a catastrophe by the two 'strangers' who attacked them. Agron was too concerned with what was happening now to reflect on past events. The two couples set up their tents close together and then retired for the night. Sleep would have been difficult if not for the sheer exhaustion that overcame nearly everyone in the encampment. Only the guards stayed awake, and would take their rest a few hours later when relieved by fresh eyes. 

The next morning, the rebels were on the move again. They repeated this routine for several more nights, finally coming off the mountain and into a forest. It was only on the fifth evening that the advance scouting group of a handful of soldiers finally caught up with the rear end of the rebel march. Spartacus and his best warriors rushed to the rear to meet the threat head-on. The battle was over almost before it begun, with little resistance from the exhausted Romans. One soldier, in the vain hope of leniency, gave up information that Crassus was four days march from where they stood, just before being put to the sword. Spartacus was relieved to realize his belief that Crassus would not be in any hurry to attack them on the ridge, thus giving them a decent head start, had been correct. But now was not the time to exult in their position. He knew that Crassus would drive his men forward, hard, knowing that the rebels had many weaker people to slow them down. Their only hope was to continue to put as much distance between them as possible. The war between the ex-gladiators and their followers and the might of Rome was far from over. For now, the rebels were still free men and women... free to make their own choices... free to live, love, and die the way they chose, and not at a master's will.

To be continued.....................


	17. A Question of Which Path to Take

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spartacus and Crixus have been at odds over how to conduct their rebellion against Roman authority from the beginning. Crixus has always bent to the will of Spartacus up to now, sensing he is the better leader, but now they have come to a crossroads... a chasm too wide for them to continue on the same path. How will their decision to go their separate ways impact Agron, Nasir, Brion, and Justinus, especially when a secret is finally bared?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special note: The final dialogue between Agron and Nasir is taken verbatim from the series, as I simply could not improve on the original writer's perfection. All else is from my own fevered brain. A special note of thanks to Judy for being the kindest beta ever.

Not long after entering the forest at the foot of the mountain behind Sinuessa, Spartacus sent out two scouts to look ahead for signs of a village that could be raided for food and temporary shelter. Their food supplies were rapidly dwindling, and there was a great need to gather in more recruits to their cause, now that so many had lost their lives during the arduous journey from Sinuessa. Scouts sent from the rear reported back that Crassus's army was less than three days march away, so they knew they couldn't tarry long. When the forward scouts returned, they brought rewarding news with them. They had come across a small valley where at least twenty villas lay nestled around a river. The surrounding land held large numbers of grazing cattle and goats. They saw no signs of soldiers to protect the inhabitants. It was exactly what the rebels needed. Not only could they increase their food supplies by huge quantities, but they might also find a large number of slaves more than willing to join their cause.

Spartacus shared this news with his Generals. All agreed that attacking the village was necessary. Plans were made for the raid. Before dismissing his men, to carry the new orders to the rest of the encampment, Spartacus informed them of the thoughts he'd been carrying since their escape from Sinuessa. Once they raided the villas, they would stay only until the following day. He then intended to lead the people North towards the Alps. When Crixus questioned his setting up camp on the mountain, Spartacus clarified his meaning. He had no intention of remaining to fight the Romans any longer. He had lost the desire for vengeance and knew that it would be easy for Crassus to track a single moving entity until he finally caught up with them. Spartacus would make it impossible for Crassus to track down all the rebels in the future. Once they reached the Alps, each person would scatter to whatever part of the world they chose for themselves. Even with all his wealth, their enemy could not round up all the rebels. Some would live to make a new life, far from the reach of Roman tentacles.

Crixus was immediately angered at the thought. To him, it was tantamount to fleeing. He was far from finished in his quest for revenge. Agron spoke up, feeling the same as Crixus. The fire still burned in his belly at the loss of his beloved brother, Duro. He sided with Crixus, telling Spartacus that they should stand and fight. Previous battles, fought and won despite great odds against them, stirred his memory and loosened his tongue. He had never taken sides against Spartacus before, but he could not help himself this time. Spartacus stayed calm. He asked them how many more innocent women and children should they sacrifice before it was over. His only wish now was to see the people who had put their trust in him to true freedom, far from the threat of being shackled once more. Crixus offered an alternative. It was now time to turn towards the heart of Rome itself. The great city was poorly protected now, with its best soldiers scattered throughout their conquered lands, fighting for more territory or putting down rebellions. Crixus was convinced they could strike a mortal blow to the city and end Roman domination once and for all.

Spartacus asked Gannicus and Agron to take their leave. Once they were gone, he tried once more to convince Crixus that it would be suicidal to attack Rome itself, but the man would not be swayed. At last, their debate came to an end. Both men knew they had reached an impasse at last. It was time to part ways. Crixus would turn west with those who were of a like mind as he, once they were re-supplied at the villas. Spartacus would turn North to take his followers to the Alps. Once they had crossed over, all would take their own road to freedom. The two men briefly reflected on days gone by, and the road that led them to where they stood this day. Despite their many conflicts, the respect they felt for one another was clearly evident. As Crixus also took his leave, Spartacus wondered who would be proven right in the path each chose to take. Only the gods knew, and they were not revealing any secrets.

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The raids against the villas in the valley were a complete success. Rumors from Rome spread to the villagers that the rebellious slaves were trapped by Crassus's army along the sea coast, far from their homes. News of the rebel escape had not yet reached their ears, being kept away from all but the highest authorities in the Senate in order to spare Crassus from the embarrassment of his failure. Crassus had many enemies among the Senate, but none brave enough to cross the man who held more wealth in his hands than any other Roman in the Republic. Because the villagers were ignorant of the approach of the rebels, they had not prepared themselves for an incursion by their enemy. Each villa had a tiny force of guards... mostly consisting of retired soldiers not yet ready to lay down their swords, or live off their small pensions. It took very little time to rout those guards and put an end to any resistance. 

Spartacus had ordered that women and children were to be spared this time, but no quarter was given the Roman men. Not all rebels obeyed Spartacus, but those that did gathered up the very small band of Roman women and children miraculously still living and led them to a single house where they were to be guarded until the rebels left in the morning. The next task was to butcher as much meat as possible to carry with them, gather up horses to again help with wagons now loaded with replenished supplies, and then end the evening in celebration of their latest triumph. There was also the task of checking the status of the numerous slaves living in each villa. Despite the fact that Nasir eventually became one of the best rebel warriors in Spartacus's army, the memory of his assassination attempt the first night he was freed still remained a lesson learned. Nasir joined Spartacus, Agron, Crixus, and Gannicus in reviewing the freed slaves. His help was invaluable, being the only one among them that knew intimately what it was to be a household slave, and not the very different rank and lifestyle of a gladiator. 

It took some time to investigate the freed slaves, assuring each one that they had the right to choose their own destiny. They could remain at their villas and wait for soldiers to find them there or follow Spartacus or Crixus once they left in the morning. They were even offered the right to attempt escape from bondage on their own, although no one seemed interested in that prospect. By the time the interviews were over, the rest of the rebels had chosen various villas for celebrations, leaving the others for settling in for the night. Agron and Nasir sought out Brion and Justinus. The four friends were ready to relax and enjoy a bit of wine and relaxation. Although none of them planned on following Crixus's path towards Rome itself, which could very well lead to destruction, they still had no clue as to what their own future would hold. Spartacus presumed that Crassus would divide his troops once he learned of their separation, which would then weaken his forces, giving Crixus at least a fighting chance. It would be even more of a blessing for those that followed him, since Crassus could never track down every single escapee once they scattered to the four winds over various foreign soils. And yet the couples did know that some rebels would be caught, which would mean only one thing... the forfeit of their lives in a way as merciless as the Romans could conjure up.

The four men refused to dwell on such thoughts for now. They joined a group consisting mostly of Agron's fellow countrymen and began to partake of wine and fresh chunks of roasted meat, savoring each sip and bite that passed their lips after the deprivation following departure from Sinuessa. The hour grew late. Darkness cloaked the valley. Raucous noises pierced the dark, being heard from several villas throughout the valley. Any attempts to settle the children down for sleep were met with the drunken sounds of men and women who finally felt free to forget their trials and tribulations for at least this one singular night. Even Justinus, who was not prone to excess in drinking, loosened up enough to imbibe far more than usual. Brion kept a close eye on his lover, fearing his inexperience might lead to trouble with so many other drunken fools around. 

Sometime during the evening's festivities, Agron stepped away from Nasir to talk about old times with a fellow gladiator from Batitatus's ludus. A number of the gladiators who had joined Spartacus at the ludus, when they first broke free, had already fallen in battles. Many of them had been on friendly terms with Agron, although some were certainly not. He was happy to see the face of one that he particularly liked. Nasir was just as happy to see Agron enjoying himself, but listening to the two of them bragging about their accomplishments in the arena became boring quickly. He slipped away quietly to join Brion and Justinus. He had more in common with them, having been a member of a Roman household as they were, although in very different roles. The three men spent their time discussing the pros and cons of living within the walls of a wealthy Roman house. More time passed, with Justinus downing several more cups of wine. The end result was an overwhelming need to vomit. When his companions noticed his face turning a grayish green color, Nasir and Brion gathered the young man between them, each holding tight to his waist as his arm draped loosely over their shoulders. 

The threesome barely made it out of the villa and onto the grass surrounding the entrance before Justinus spewed forth a mighty stream of purple liquid, along with whatever food he had not digested yet. He would have fallen to his knees if not held up by the others. He let out a loud groan, ripped from the pain in his belly, and proceeded to mercifully pass out. Brion looked over at Nasir.

"I fear our young man has little experience overindulging."

Nasir laughed. "I fear you speak truthfully. I wager morning will find him regretful."  
"More so than ever before, but it is a lesson learned for next time," Brian agreed. 

"May I offer help in taking him to the villa?"

"Gratitude, Nasir, but no need... yet tarry a moment. I wish to break words, if I may."

Nasir shook his head in agreement. The friends carried Justinus's limp body over to the wall and propped him gently against it. They sat down together next to him. Brion got right to the point.

"I am in your debt, Nasir."

"No debt is owed," Nasir insisted, knowing exactly what Brion was referring to.

"Untrue," insisted Brion. "Justinus wished to speak truly, especially to you, but it was I who held him back. Spartacus is a man of honor and compassion. Agron is like a brother to me. Yet, I feared their response with gained knowledge of Justinus's true background. He is my heart, Nasir... as you are Agron's. I would not risk his life... and he is as true to our cause as any man among us."

"I heard his words, and they rang true, Brion. A man must be judged by his actions, not the seed from which he sprang. I keep my word with no desire for praise or gratitude. I keep it in the name of friendship. The day will come when Justinus will no longer fear being called Roman born. It is then that he will disclose his secret, and no debt will be owed me."

"Yet, I gladly give my word in exchange. If ever you are in need of my help, you will have it."

"And I will remember your words, if either Agron or I have need of it."

The friends clasped forearms to seal their understanding.

"And now, it is to bed with my foolish young man." 

"And I to find my man. We will meet again at dawn's light."

Nasir helped Brion to bring Justinus to his feet. The young man became conscious just enough to walk, with Brion's help. They left together, leaving Nasir behind to search out Agron. It would take him some time to find his lover, being completely unaware that Agron had gone in search of him earlier, and found him. Agron was at the doorway at the very moment that he overheard Brion confess to being in Nasir's debt. Agron would never know what instinct prompted him to stop and listen without revealing his presence, but he heard it all. His first thought was anger, but again his instincts stilled his movements. His time with Nasir had calmed the wild rage within his breast, although it was always unleashed again in battle. But thanks to Nasir, there were times when he thought first before reacting. When Nasir and Brion stopped talking, Agron knew he had to leave. He had to take time to think about the words he had just heard, and what it all meant.

Agron re-entered the villa and pushed his way through the drunken crowds, ignoring the women who reached for him and the men who wanted to talk to him. He found a small room towards the back that had somehow been missed by the revelers. He propped himself against the wall and held his head, which now ached as if being pounded by Lugo's hammer. Through the haze of his anger, Agron tried to decipher his mixed feelings. He was hurt that Nasir knew something so important about the couple they had taken to their hearts, and not shared it with him. It was a matter of trust. It was obvious, at least to him, that Nasir did not trust him. Yes, he told himself, he would have been displeased to find out that Justinus was actually a Roman and not a slave. Yes, he would have been a bit more than displeased... but he had learned to trust Nasir's intuition, and the lad trusted Justinus. Besides that, Brion had become like a brother to him. If Brion could love the boy as much as he did, even knowing who he was, then that would have been enough for Agron. Agron tried to tell himself that he was accepting of Nasir's actions, but the longer he thought about it, the more he knew it wasn't true. He felt betrayed. If trust was missing from their relationship, then it was not as strong as he had thought. That was what he wanted from Nasir. He knew his heart would never beat for another the way it did for Nasir. But now he was not so sure that Nasir felt the same way. Maybe it was time to free Nasir to find someone he could trust enough that he would never keep any kind of secret from them. Only moments before Nasir found him, Agron made a decision.

"There you are," Nasir proclaimed, when he finally found Agron. "I feared you left without me."

Agron grasped Nasir and pulled him tightly into his arms. 

"Not tonight, of all nights." Agron growled, crushing Nasir's lips to his. 

Nasir felt Agron's heart beating hard against his chest, as if he had been running to reach him, rather than sequestered far from the boisterous crowd of revelers at the front of the villa. Agron's kiss was intense, nearly robbing Nasir of his breath. Perhaps it was the fears that had recently hung over their heads that made Agron so passionate. This was the first night since Sinuessa that the lovers felt free to express themselves without the shadow of death looming so close by. Whatever it was, Nasir welcomed it. It was clear that Agron could not wait for them to return to their chosen villa for the night. His man wanted him now, and Nasir was perfectly willing to gratify Agron's desires. The bruising kiss ended just in time for Nasir to fill his lungs with fresh air. Agron laid his hands on Nasir's shoulders and held him away for a few moments. He looked deep into Nasir's eyes, as if he was searching for a part of himself in his lover's gaze. Nasir felt a funny twinge, as if the gods were laughing at him, but before he could say anything Agron pulled him in for another kiss. As Agron's mouth worked Nasir's, his hands went to work removing the clothing Nasir wore. The pieces fell to the floor beside them. When Nasir reached for Agron's belt, it was pushed away. Agron flipped Nasir around and wrapped his arms around his lover.

Agron began nipping at Nasir's neck. First were tiny nips that caused chills to race up Nasir's spine. Then came little kisses, as if to soothe the spot where teeth scraped flesh. Agron dropped his arms only long enough to rip his own clothes off. His cock was painfully hard and needed freedom. Nasir made an attempt to turn around when he was released, but Agron hissed at him to stand still. Nasir froze. Agron again encircled his body, his hands lowering down to Nasir's equally hard cock. One hand played with Nasir's balls, while the other fondled his manhood. Nasir felt Agron's hardness pressing into his backside. He loved touching his lover, but it was obvious that Agron wanted him to remain passive for now. He wanted to please Agron, so he willingly followed his lead. Agron began his attack on Nasir's neck, ears, and shoulders again. His actions would leave marks in the morning, as if he was branding Nasir as his own. This went on for some time until Agron's play with his cock and balls was causing Nasir to feel as if he could not contain himself much longer. Both men were groaning with the effort of holding back their pleasure. Suddenly, Agron stopped and turned Nasir back around to face him.

"When I speak the words, my heart will never beat for another, are they taken as my solemn vow to you?" Agron asked unexpectedly.

Nasir was puzzled at Agron's serious tone, but the question deserved a plain-spoken answer.

"Yes," he responded instantly.

Agron said nothing more. He pulled Nasir to the ground with him and took his lover right there on the floor. His only preparation was the spit he covered his manhood with and slathered against Nasir's entrance. It was possessive... it was ardent... it was fierce, and Agron came inside Nasir with an intensity that neither had ever felt before. Nasir looked into Agron's face and saw tears in his eyes. Just as suddenly as he had taken Nasir, Agron slowed his movements inside before his drained cock could soften, as if to apologize for the roughness. Nasir reached his own point of rapture and released his pleasure between them as Agron met Nair's lips again, but with more tenderness this time. When Agron pulled out of Nasir, he continued to hold his lover in a tight embrace. It was as if he feared they'd never hold each other again, which is exactly what Agron believed, though he mentioned nothing of his thoughts to Nasir. When Agron finally released Nasir, they redressed and left for the villa where they would spend their night. Morning would be soon enough, Agron told himself, for him to tell Nasir what was on his mind.

**********************************************************

Brion heard Agron and Nasir when they entered the same villa that he and Justinus were using for their rest. He felt the deepest gratitude to Nasir for being such a decent human being. At the same time, he felt a bit of guilt for his part in keeping Agron in the dark about their secret. He wanted to trust Agron with the truth, but if he had a bad reaction and threatened Justinus, Brion knew it would be the end of their friendship. He could not... he would not allow anyone to harm Justinus, not if he could do anything about it. His hope was that the two of them could return to his Celtic homeland once they crossed the Alps with Spartacus. He would introduce Justinus to the other half of his ancestry. Agron and Nasir would probably make their way towards the Germanic lands of Agron's birth. The friends would then part ways, and the secret would no longer matter. It would never have the chance to come between Agron and Nasir, which was what Brion fervently hoped for. Brion gathered Justinus closer to his body for warmth and fell back into restful slumber. 

Hours passed by. Both couples slept in their separate rooms, each with bodies closely intertwined. Shortly before sunrise, Justinus woke, surprisingly without the usual after effects of boundless drinking. His mouth was dry, but his head was clear. He quietly left their bed to seek a drink of water to quench his thirst, hoping not to awaken Brion too early. He couldn't remember much of the night before, but he knew that Brion had kept him safe. He loved the man more with each passing day. Justinus returned to the bed and sat on the edge, his eyes fixed on his lover's face. Brion was so beautiful in repose. Justinus felt that none of the gods in the heavens would be able to match Brion for sheer beauty. He looked towards the heavens.

"Strike me dead, if you will, but my words bear only truth," he whispered to whatever gods might be listening to his thoughts.

Brion stirred in his sleep, throwing the blanket off his body and reaching out, as if to find something missing. Justinus smiled. He knew that Brion was reaching for him. He slipped back into bed, pulling the blanket back around them both. He propped his head up with one hand and slowly caressed Brion's chest with the palm of the other. He felt Brion's nipples begin to harden. He reached down and placed his lips around each nipple, feeling them going taut in his mouth. He suckled like a babe at its mother's teat. Brion tasted so good, and in his own way he gave life to Justinus just as a mother would her babe. Justinus did not begin to live until Brion entered his life, and when his life was threatened, Brion saved him. He would never be able to love Brion long enough to repay him for all he had brought to his existence, but he was more than willing to attempt it to the end of his days. When Justinus looked up, he saw that Brion was awake and looking down at him.

"Apologies. I did not wish to disturb your rest."

Brion pulled Justinus's face up to meet his own and kissed him softly.

"May the gods bless me with such disturbance until the afterlife claims me," Brion whispered, before delivering a more ardent kiss.

Early morning lovemaking had become a habit during their time in Sinuessa after being freed from bondage, and this morning was no exception. Brion once told Justinus that if he died at the hands of the Romans that day, he wanted his last memory of Justinus to be one of seeing his face contort with pleasure as he came inside him. On this morning, the pleasure was as impassioned as it ever had been. As their gratification reached its zenith together, they each knew the dangers they faced once they were on the march again. Some of them might not reach the Alps. And of those that did, some might not escape the vengeance of Rome. But no matter what happened, Brion and Justinus had this morning's memory locked firmly in their minds. It would be enough, until they could make more memories.

As Brion and Justinus cleaned themselves up from their lustful session, Agron was watching Nasir preparing himself for the coming journey. Agron was already fully dressed. He had risen long before Nasir. He had been unable to sleep. He knew what was about to happen, and his heart ached as it had only done once before in his life... at the murder of his brother, Duro. He wanted to turn back from his plan, but he wanted to give Nasir a chance at a better life even more. With some effort, Agron had convinced himself that Nasir would be better off with someone he could trust wholeheartedly... someone with no baggage to carry or vendetta tormenting him. Nasir tied his belt in place and turned to face Agron. That's when he saw the look on Agron's face. Nasir moved over to the table where a carafe of wine sat next to two cups. He poured them each a portion and brought one cup to Agron while sipping at his own. He handed it to Agron, who lowered it rather than taking a drink.

"You do not share in drink?" Nasir queried.

"I would have clear head when Crixus strikes for Rome."

"I have often been at cross-purpose with the Gaul, yet his fucking presence shall be missed," Nasir laughed.

"I shall not feel the sting of it," Agron mumbled, his head bowed low.

"You yet hate the man?"

"I will not miss his presence, because I shall not be from it," Agron answered. 

This time he looked Nasir straight in the face. Nasir was confused. He had thought the issue of who to follow was a foregone conclusion. Agron always backed Spartacus, even when disagreeing with him.

"You turn from Spartacus to march with Crixus?"

"Spartacus stands as a brother, yet in this, we are not of like mind. There is no life for me beyond the Alps. I am no shepherd, nor tiller of land. Blood and battle are all I have ever known."

Nasir did not hesitate. No matter what decision Agron made for their future, he was more than willing to agree. He would follow Agron into the very jaws of Cerberus, if it was what Agron wanted.

"It is settled, then. We move for Rome with Crixus."

Agron smiled painfully. "To hear such words lifts spirit. Yet I would have you take with Spartacus."

Nasir frowned for the first time. "My place is forever with you."

"Not in this," Agron sighed, his eyes moistening.

"You once swore the gods themselves could not wrest me from your arms, and now you fucking cast me aside?" Nasir's tone changed. There was anger, as well as hurt in his voice.

"My heart will never beat for another, yet it would seize within chest if I were to drag you to your doom." The pain in his voice was unmistakable.

"I am a warrior," Nasir responded angrily.

"One I am most proud of. Set skills to aiding Spartacus, and see those less able to true freedom."

Nasir could no longer hold back the tears that began gathering in the corners of his eyes. 

"Do not ask me to turn from you," he pleaded.

"I ask only that you live, and wrest what joy that yet may be found on the remaining days."

Agron reached for Nasir. He knew Nasir would not go against him, no matter how much he wanted to. Despite how much he wanted to argue with Agron, and convince him to either follow Spartacus or allow him to follow Crixus too, Nasir could only hold his tongue and let Agron pull him into an embrace. He did not understand why Agron was choosing this path for the two of them. Yet he also knew that if he disobeyed him, Agron would be in mortal danger worrying about him when they faced the full might of the Roman city. Obviously Agron did not think he was capable of surviving such a battle, despite his pride in him as a warrior. He would not risk Agron's life for anything. But he did not know how he would carry on in future without Agron beside him. Agron was more than his heart. He was his soul, his life's blood. With one last painful kiss, Agron turned and left. Nasir stood in the room they had shared during the night. His hand reached up to his lips. He recalled the overwhelming passion of Agron's lovemaking during the night. He now recognized it for what it was. Agron had been saying good-bye without using words. He could still feel Agron deep inside him. He prayed he always would. It was all he had left now.

Agron stepped out into the early morning light. Those that were following Crixus were already preparing to leave. He heard a sound approaching from behind. He prayed it wasn't Nasir. He did not think he could bear seeing that sweet face in torment again without succumbing to the urge to change his mind. He turned and came face to face with Brion. The two greeted each other warmly. Agron had become very fond of Brion, and he understood why his friend had not confided in him. His love for Justinus was just as strong as his own for Nasir. He couldn't fault Brion for protecting his lover from any perceived threat. He would do the same for Nasir. Agron turned to Brion.

"I welcome our friendship, Brion. You are a good man. I must ask a token of that friendship, if you would grant it."

"You have but to ask," Brion promised.

"Watch over Nasir, as you would Justinus. I take my leave and follow Crixus to Rome."

Brion was about to protest, but Agron raised his hand to silence him.

"The decision is made. Keep him safe, Brion. I beg of you. Help him open his heart to another... one he can lay all his trust in. Have I your word?"

"You do. But you hold his heart. How can he give it to another?"

"There is more to love than heart and body, Brion. I have learned this from Nasir. Do not let him lock away any part of himself. When next he gives his heart, I want him to give all."

With that, Agron turned away and moved off into the gathering crowd, leaving a very puzzled Brion behind. Agron was speaking in riddles. Something had happened between Agron and Nasir, but he didn't know what. Brion hurried back into the villa. He sought out Nasir and found him sitting on his bed with his head in his hands. His shoulders shook slightly.

"Nasir?"

Nasir looked up. His eyes were red, his face haggard.

"What has befallen you?"

"I have no answer to give. We argued not. I wake to find my joy ended. For what crime, I cannot say."

Brion was about to answer, but was stopped.

"He will return to me. The gods cannot be so cruel as to take him from me. I will wait."

There was no more to be said now. The road lay ahead. Each man, woman, and child would travel the one they had chosen. Each left the city with their individual emotions dictating their actions. Not one of them knew what waited for them in the future. For some, they marched towards life... for others, towards their final days. It was all in the hands of the capricious gods now.

To be continued.............


	18. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agron and Nasir are parted when Agron learns the truth about his friends, Justinus and Brion, and Nasir's part in keeping it from him. As often happens when secrets are kept, and then exposed, there are consequences that change everything. By following Crixus, instead of Spartacus, Agron may have sealed his fate, and destroyed Nasir's happiness forever. Yet sometimes the Fates enjoy playing games with people's lives. What do they have in mind for our lovers?

Brion sat on the gnarled stump of a fallen tree in front of the tent he shared with Justinus. His gaze was held by the man only a few yards away. Nasir sat on the ground in front of his tent... a half-empty tent once shared by two. Brion's heart ached for the dark-skinned young man he was watching so carefully. Nasir had not been the same since Agron left with Crixus more than a fortnight before. Word had begun to reach Spartacus that Crixus and Agron were succeeding in their quest to arrive at Rome by cutting through all forces sent to stop them. At last report, the rebels were only two days march away from the heart of Rome. Only one legion was left to battle before the city would be open to invasion. It was good news, but did little to lighten Nasir's heart. Brion knew that nothing would bring back the joyful Nasir of the past unless Agron returned. As he sat there, Brion again wondered why Agron left the way he did. Brion had thought of little else since joining the ranks of Spartacus in their trek towards the Alps. He was certain that Agron's last words to him held the key to it all. A man's last words usually held meaning.

"You sit heavy in thought. Share burden, that I may lighten your load," Justinus said, as he stepped out of the tent to join Brion on the stump.

Justinus noticed where Brion was staring. Nasir still sat in the same position he'd been in for more than an hour. His head was bent over as he stared at the ground between his legs, as if looking for answers to unspoken questions in the dirt.

"His pain is too deep for comforting words. I've made attempts. You broke words with Agron before he took leave of us. Do you still know nothing of his reasoning for desertion of one whose heart he holds?"

"I've told you all that was spoken. All that was asked of me was that I watch over Nasir as I would my own heart. I gave my word. He then asked that I aid Nasir in opening his heart to another. Look at the man! His heart is torn from chest. It cannot beat for another. In time spent with them, I believed Agron knew the mind of Nasir, yet appears oblivious to damage his choice would wrought. Nasir trusted Agron and..."

Brion paused. An idea, that had not occurred to him before, suddenly began forming in his head. 

"Trust!"

"Trust?"

"Yes! Clouds part from memory. Agron spoke of trust... of wanting Nasir to find a heart he can trust fully. When spoken, I did not give weight to manner it was given."

"And now?

"Now, with recall of Agron's voice, I hear urgency given word above all others, as if Nasir does not give such a gift to him."

"That is foolish talk. Nasir trusts Agron above all men."

"Yes, but what if he found cause to think otherwise?" Brion questioned.

Justinus thought hard on what Brion was saying. It didn't take him long to realize where Brion's thoughts had gone.

"Brion, it cannot be where mind is travelling. Nasir and I spoke only once on subject of truth he learned from mouth of Craigh and Cassius. That was long before they parted ways. Agron had no other means of discovering secret held from him."

Brion bent his head and sighed deeply. 

"What plagues thoughts now?"

"Think back to the village in the valley where last we all stood as one."

Justinus frowned. He certainly did remember that night, or at least some of it. Much of it was a complete blur, once all the wine he drank fogged his brain. It was the last time he saw his dear friend, Nasir, as a happy man. The next time he faced Nasir, he was a different person. A light had disappeared from his eyes. He still breathed air as any other man, but it seemed to be drawn into lungs painfully, as if he didn't wish to take another breath. Nasir's eyes fell briefly on Justinus, and then he simply walked away. He joined a group of women who were finishing up the job of hoisting food supplies onto one of the wagons. Wordlessly, he began helping them. Moments later, Brion had joined Justinus and revealed the reason behind Nasir's strange behavior. Justinus still found it impossible to believe that Agron had deserted his lover. Neither he nor Brion could understand what had caused the rift. Now he sensed that Brion may have figured out the puzzle. He listened intently.

"On that night, you fell ill from drink. Agron shared cup and memory with brother gladiators, giving reason for Nasir to offer help in removing you from harm's way. If guts were spilled on wrong reveler, the mood might change to one less convivial. We carried you to outer garden near entrance to villa. When stomach was emptied, you fell blessedly into oblivion. I seized opportunity provided to sit with Nasir and offer gratitude for his discretion upon learning our secret. We spoke of it, only briefly yet fully, but I now wonder if we were as alone as thought by us. Searching memory, possibility exists that our words were overheard from villa entryway. It gives meaning to Agron's words. If he found cause to believe that Nasir did not lay full trust in him, he would be wounded as I would if felt same from you."

Justinus realized that Brion was right. They had worried that Agron would be angry at Nasir, and furious at them, if he learned the truth. They had not considered that he might feel something different, especially towards Nasir. It did occur to them that he would feel a sense of betrayal, but not a sense that he himself had failed... that Nasir would keep the secret because he did not trust his lover enough. 

"You would leave me if I held secrets from you?" he wondered, not realizing he had spoken out loud.

"No man knows his reaction to deeds not yet lived, Justinus. But yes, I would question whether we belong together. One can only give all your heart to the soul that also holds all your trust. If I am right, I am responsible for this tragic turn of events. It is I who wanted it held back from Agron. It is I who failed to trust enough, not Nasir."

"Your reasons were sound, Brion. Your parting with Agron, genial. Not something possible if he lay blame at your feet. You went to Nasir once Agron left. Did he speak of events of that morning?"

"Only that there was no argument between them. He was as a man struck mortal blow by unseen weapon. Nasir keeps to self since parting. He breathes, he eats, he drinks, he sleeps, he performs necessary tasks, but he does not live. If Agron's goal was to set him free, he has failed. Nasir is more slave now than when collar bound neck. His master is memory of what once was his." 

Brion continued to watch Nasir, who finally rose from his position and turned towards his tent. The entire encampment was settling in for the night. Nasir opened the tent-flap and disappeared inside. He had not bothered to look around to catch the eye of any other person, not even his friends who always set their tent as close to him as possible. He knew they were worried about him, but Nasir did not care. He had only one thought on his mind nearly every minute of the day... was Agron still safe? Just as importantly, why did Agron desert him? His mind would never rest until he knew the answer to both questions. Nasir slowly removed his outer clothing and the knife he kept at his waist. If Agron was with him, he would have removed all his clothing. Agron had often remarked on how much he loved his body, so Nasir enjoyed presenting himself to his lover without anything blocking his view. Nasir felt a lump in his throat and the threat of tears as he thought back on how beautiful Agron's body was too. From his short brown hair to his large, wide feet, his lover was all masculine strength. Yet, those muscular arms and legs could hold his smaller body with such care and tenderness, that Nasir always felt safe within them. Nasir fell to his knees on the bed of robes and blankets. Agron had left behind a cloak he wore during their wintry time on the mountain, and Nasir gathered it up into his arms. He shook as he cradled it close to his chest and bent to inhale the scent of Agron that lingered there still. It would be some time later before he wrapped himself in the cloak and laid down to sleep. This was all his life consisted of now... all until Agron came back to him, as he must someday.

*******************************************************

Crixus, Naevia, and all the others that followed them spent their days marching ever closer to the heart of Rome itself. Every small outlying village, whether guarded by soldiers or not, fell before them. They fought like demons unleashed from the bowels of Hell. They gave no quarter to anyone standing in their way. Whole villages were burned to the ground as the rebels kept their eye on the final prize. Agron was the only one who actually didn't care about the capital city of the Roman Empire. His focus was simply on dispatching as many Romans to the afterlife as he could before he himself was cut down. He took to each battlefield with a recklessness that should have cost him his life many times over, but he suffered few injuries, and none of any mention. Yet, each night as he lay his head down to sleep, he was in agonizing pain. His wounds were invisible to the naked eye. His dreams were filled with images of his dark-skinned, long-haired lover, Nasir. 

This night was no different from all the others since parting with Nasir. He slept restlessly at best and woke from a fevered dream hours before the others. When he got up to relieve himself, he suddenly felt a shudder run down his spine. It was not the cold night air that caused it. He sensed that the new day would bring something different this time... something unwelcome. And yet, he did not fear it. If the Roman's god, Pluto, wished to drag him to the Afterlife, he would go... but not without taking as many Romans as he could with him. He returned to his bedroll to try and get more sleep. They were now within a single day's march of Rome, and advance scouts reported a gathering of one last legion left to protect the city. The word was that the legion was led by the Praetor, Arrius. His reputation did not create fear in his enemies the way that Pompey or Crassus did. Rear scouts reported no sign of Crassus or his army. Crixus believed that Crassus let his staggering hatred of Spartacus, and desire to personally catch the man, control his decision to follow Spartacus towards the Alps, rather than turning back to Rome to protect the city. It was not a choice he would have made, but he did not think like Crassus. Only Spartacus had been able to do that. Agron agreed with Crixus, which only made him more uncomfortable. If it was true that Crassus followed Spartacus, then it would mean that Nasir was in danger. It was too late now to change his mind. He finally fell asleep again, only to awaken a few hours later, still plagued by an uneasy feeling.

The rebels began their march in the morning with high hopes. Once they reached the ridge, where they intended to take a stand against Arrius and his men, they set about preparing for the force that was approaching from Rome. Scouts returned in the morning with news of the Roman legion already on the march. By the time the soldiers entered the valley below the ridge, the rebels had finished their preparations. Huge boulders wrapped with vines and twine lined the ridge. Once the Roman legion stood vulnerable below them, Crixus gave the command to light the boulders using pitch and fire. They were then rolled down the steep incline, scattering the well-ordered ranks of soldiers in every direction. Boulders were followed by screaming rebels brandishing their weapons. Chaos ruled the day as the rebels slowly turned the tide in their favor through sheer brutality. These soldiers had never fought a more determined enemy, and soon the battlefield was once again choked with the dead and dying... the vast majority of which were the Roman soldiers. 

The rebel leaders were soon surrounded by jubilant men and women, reveling in their latest triumph over the enemy. Agron stood surprised at what he was witnessing. He had felt certain that morning that this would be his final day on Earth. For the first time since joining Crixus, he began to feel that the man actually might succeed in his goal of conquering the heart of the Roman Empire. Agron smiled crookedly through the Roman blood dripping from his face. If they did succeed, they could then wipe out the wealth of Crassus and the Senate, leaving the man helpless. Soldiers would desert him with no promise of pay. It would mean saving Spartacus from Crassus's pursuit. More importantly, it would mean that Nasir would be safer. He had already begun questioning his decision to separate from Nasir. It had been more painful than he had imagined. He was haunted by Nasir's face every day since. He wondered if Nasir would forgive him for his foolish pride, because he now recognized that it was only pride that caused him to feel hurt when Nasir did not share Brion and Justinus's secret. 

As these thoughts ran through Agron's head, he heard Crixus proudly proclaiming their victory over the last legion left to protect the city of Rome. Everyone around them shouted with unadulterated glee. It was only minutes later, when another sound could be heard over the mass of excited rebels. It came from a different direction than the one the rebels had traveled earlier. All eyes turned towards the odd noise. Gasps of surprise escaped as eyes opened wide at the sight of what had gathered behind them. The ground was thick with several legions of soldiers lined up at attention, waiting for their orders from the man who stood tall in his saddle at the head of his troops. Even from a distance, they recognized the banner of Crassus. The reports they had received from scouts had been deceptive. Crassus had not followed Spartacus as thought, but instead led his men on a different route back to Rome, finally catching up with the rebels just in time to engage them while at their most depleted.

Despite their exhaustion, Crixus was able to rouse his warriors one last time. They prepared themselves to meet their enemy. Agron had one last fleeting image of Nasir that he could not hold back, and then he too rushed forward to meet his hated adversaries. It was a blood bath. The rebels fought valiantly, but even their leaders were drained of energy from the previous battle. Agron, Crixus, Naevia, and all the others no longer had the quick reflexes that had always served them well in confrontations. None went down without a fight. Each of them took two or more soldiers with them before being struck down themselves, but not long after the conflict began, it ended. Crixus and Naevia were both alive, but wounded. Agron had fallen at the hands of Crassus's son, Tiberius. He suffered several wounds, but Caesar recognized his importance and ordered him saved for questioning. He was taken away, out of sight of the last moments that Crixus lived. Crixus's head was removed from his body by a single blow applied by that same youthful boy who had struck down Agron. Naevia was forced to watch as the love of her life was taken from her. There was purpose to this. Crassus ordered Naevia spared in order to send her back to Spartacus, carrying the head of Crixus as a vision of his own intended end, and that of all those who followed him.

Camp was set up not far from the body-strewn battlefield in order for the soldiers to separate the living from the dead. Hundreds had survived, although most carried varying wounds. However, they all knew their remaining time would be short-lived. Caesar was able to identify those worth questioning, such as Agron. They were separated from the others. To the surprise of the Romans, not even torture loosened the tongues of those questioned. Once they became of no use, their suffering was ended. Soon enough it was Agron's turn to be interrogated. He had lost none of his bravado, or courage with his downfall. He jeered at his persecutors, even when struck hard across the face. He simply spit the blood pouring from his cut lip at their feet, smiling crookedly as it landed on their sandals. 

It soon became apparent that Agron had nothing to offer his captors. In frustration, Crassus ordered him crucified as a warning to those left as to the result of their stubborn refusal to give up information. Caesar took great delight in helping to carry out the punishment, as he had already had prior conflicts with Agron and still remembered the sting of nearly falling to Agron's skills at Sinuessa. Crassus had no intention of making Agron's death a speedy one. His arms were tied tightly all along the crossbeam of the cross so that his death would be slow in coming. Before lifting him up in place to the single vertical beam, Caesar bent down with spike and hammer in hand. As Agron glared his hatred at the man and threatened to have his head someday, Caesar laughed, reminding him that he would never hold a weapon again. He then proved his words were true by driving the spikes directly into the palms of Agron's hands, creating a blood-curdling scream to fill the night air. Agron was hoisted up and set into position, his legs dangling uselessly only inches from the ground. Only the support of the ties kept Agron from suffocating from the pressure of his hanging. Tears began to roll down Agron's cheeks, leaving a crimson trail as they slowly made their way through the blood still covering his face and down to his chest. Those watching thought he cried in pain. His tears were for his lost love. Through the red haze of agony that clouded his vision, all he could see was the beautiful face of his Nasir. Leaving him was the only regret he had... the only thing he would miss as he drew his last breath.

**********************************************************

Days before Crixus met his expected end, a lucky twist of fate would change everything for Agron. Pompey, one of Rome's most famous Generals, had been recalled from foreign wars specifically to aid Crassus in ending the Servile Rebellion. Pompey had sent out messengers to various parts of the Empire in an attempt to gather information on the progress of the war against the rebels. One small band of messengers were discovered by Spartacus's scouts at night over their campfire. Thinking they were Crassus's men, Spartacus and Gannicus themselves set upon the hapless soldiers. When their insignia was recognized as belonging to Pompey, Spartacus once again thought of a clever plan. It meant sending a couple of his bravest men directly into the lion's den... better known as Crassus's camp... posing as an envoy from Pompey. The hope was to draw Crassus into a trap in the guise of a meeting between the two Generals. This plan would have failed miserably if not for one other twist of fate.

Not long before Crassus and his army set upon Crixus, Tiberius used his authority as the son of the Imperator to settle a debt he felt Caesar owed him... and settle it in the most horrific way one man could do to another. Several of Tiberius's friends held Caesar down across a table while Tiberius raped his hated rival. He knew that Caesar would never dare reveal what had happened in order to keep from losing face with his own men in the future. He guessed correctly, as Caesar said nothing to Crassus or anyone else. But if Tiberius thought Caesar was going to forgive his humiliation, he was dangerously mistaken. When the fake envoy appeared in camp, Caesar recognized the men as being part of Spartacus's followers. He was a man every bit as clever and sly as Crassus and Spartacus. His brain immediately went to work and he saw the chance for revenge against Tiberius. He managed to manipulate the arrogant youth into thinking it would be an honor to take his father's place in a meeting with Pompey, serving as Crassus' voice and will. Crassus was so pleased at his son's desire to show his mettle, that he agreed to the idea. Thus, it was Tiberius who fell into the rebel trap.

Not long after Tiberius fell into the hands of Spartacus, Agron was nailed to the cross. Shortly after that, a true envoy from Pompey arrived at the Roman encampment. It did not take Crassus long to realize his grave mistake in judgement. He lashed out at Caesar for not recognizing the fake envoy, but Caesar reminded the man that there was no way he could know all of the rebels out of the thousands who inhabited Sinuessa. Then he quickly reminded Crassus that they could not be certain that Tiberius was dead. It was suggested that he would more likely be held for ransom. Caesar reminded Crassus that they had something Spartacus would be willing to trade for Tiberius... the lives of the rebel survivors, or at least a portion of them. There was little danger in any of them fighting for their cause anymore, as almost all were in such poor condition from many wounds and ill treatment. Crassus agreed to release five hundred of those who would least likely be able to fight in future. With his hands destroyed, Agron was among the five hundred. Caesar was ordered to broker the deal while Crassus prepared his men to follow and destroy all the rebels once his son was returned to him.

Agron was lowered to the ground and given dirty rags to bind his wounds. With literally no rest, Caesar led the rebels away from the Roman encampment with his men guarding them all the way. Few guards were needed, as none of those freed had any fight left in them, including Agron. Blood was not the only thing that flowed from his body when the nails tore into his flesh. His spirit had drained from him too. The only thing that kept his feet moving along the dusty road towards Spartacus, step by painful step, was the image of Nasir. If he survived the trek back to the rebel camp, he would see his heart beat again, if Nasir would forgive him his foolish pride. And if he did, Agron vowed that he would never let anything part them again.

***********************************************************

While the five hundred prisoners slowly made their way back to rejoin their former companions, led by a nervous Caesar, Spartacus was deciding on how to handle the Romans they had captured. Naevia immediately recognized Tiberius as the one who severed Crixus's head. Her fury was monumental, and all she wanted was to repay the boy in kind. Spartacus saw a golden opportunity to unite his people in a way that would strengthen their common bond even further, as well as bring satisfaction to those who had lost loved ones and friends to Crassus. He proposed they throw their own gladiator games with his former brother gladiators pitted against the soldiers. He extended a special offer to two who had lost most dearly, although they had never fought in the arena. He knew that Naevia and Nasir were capable of handling themselves and were in desperate need of a catharsis to the unbearable pain they felt over losing their lovers. Nasir had become the angry young man that Agron had once been, losing his temper easily at the slightest thing since Naevia returned with news of Agron's 'death'. Spartacus heard many complaints from trainees as to Nasir's uncompromising attitude towards their slightest mistakes, as well as serious concerns voiced by his closest friends, Brion and Justinus. There was no question that Nasir needed to honor his fallen lover in a way that Agron would be most proud of. 

The games were hastily arranged, with a makeshift arena set up among the rocks. The soldiers were held prisoner in a natural cave set in the side of the mountain. Each soldier was given a fair chance to survive, although none had the honed skills of a gladiator. One by one, the soldiers were polished off, some quickly while others were not so lucky. Tiberius was saved for last. He would face Naevia. Brion and Justinus looked on anxiously as Nasir stood ready for his soldier. They knew what a skillful fighter he was, but they held concern for the way his behavior had been since learning of Agron's fate. They need not have worried. Nasir used all the skills that Agron and Spartacus had taught him to play with the unfortunate soldier who faced him before sending him to the afterlife too. It was finally Naevia's turn. The formerly timid body slave acquitted herself admirably, suffering a few small injuries against the trained youth but getting the upper hand throughout most of the battle. 

All eyes were on Naevia during the fight, so no one noticed that Spartacus and Gannicus were called away by one of their scouts in the midst of it. They had a message from a lone man who had entered the camp bearing the white flag of truce. It was Caesar, who made his offer of exchange for Tiberius's life. Gannicus did not trust Caesar's word, being certain of a trap, but Spartacus knew he had to take the chance offered. If he could return five hundred of his people to the arms of their loved ones, it was not something he could afford to pass up. He hurried back to the games and arrived just in time to see Naevia best Tiberius, her sword ready to do to him what had been done to Crixus. Spartacus knew he had to tread carefully. The crowd cried out for Tiberius's blood, and Naevia was in a fever to deliver it. Spartacus did the only thing he could. He gave her the choice of whether to end Tiberius's life and forfeit the lives of their people or not. Her heart longed to slice the boy's neck, but in the end she could not sacrifice so many others to satisfy her need for revenge. She turned Tiberius over to Spartacus. The howls of disapproval only ended when Spartacus announced the reason why she had spared his life.

**********************************************************************

Nasir returned to his tent. His heart still lay heavy in his chest. He could not resent those who were being returned to the fold, but it did not bring Agron back to him. He had thought that killing the Roman soldier would bring him a measure of comfort, and it did briefly, but seeing the things Agron had left behind in the tent only sharpened his loss more bitterly than before. He now knew that nothing would fill the void left by Agron. He no longer felt angry at Agron, as he once had for a brief time after he left. Brion came to him and explained his theory of the reason behind Agron leaving the way he did. Rather than making things easier for Nasir to deal with, he now only blamed himself for losing Agron. He should have had more faith in the man he'd given his heart to. If he had trusted him more fully, none of this would have happened. It made his loss more grievous, and he would not allow anything to assuage his guilt. Even attempts by Brion and Justinus to comfort him failed miserably. Shortly before the exchange was to be made, his friends appeared at Nasir's tent.

"Will you join us to welcome the return of our people? Perhaps some carry word of Agron to lighten heart, if only a little," Justinus offered.

"I will remain here. Agron's spirit fills this tent as no other spot among us. None returning can speak more clearly than what I hold here," Nasir declared, lifting up Agron's cloak and clutching it to his chest.

"It tears heart to see you so shackled by memories that bring such pain, but respect your choice. If mind changes, all will welcome your presence."

Brion reached for Justinus to pull him away. It was clear that Nasir needed to be alone. The couple left Nasir, and hurried to the center of the encampment where so many others had gathered to await the return of their fallen heroes. Each person prayed that someone they cared for would be among those approaching. Spartacus had taken a number of his strongest men with him to meet on neutral ground to make the exchange. There had been a momentary scare when one of the former slaves, who had been badly mistreated by Tiberius in the same way Caesar was, rushed from the crowd and stuck a knife blade deep into his guts. It was thought that the trade would not happen, but that same woman agreed to take the place of Tiberius. Being that she was Crassus's former lover, Caesar felt safe in accepting her as an equal trade, along with returning the body of Tiberius to his father. Now it was only a matter of patience while the crowd waited for sight of the returning captives. 

It seemed forever before they saw the mass of shuffling, slow-moving ex-prisoners on the horizon. Little by little, they trickled into the center of the encampment. Shouts of joy and relief were heard as faces, often covered in dirt, dried blood, cuts, and bruises, became recognizable. Friends and families rushed forward to gather loved ones in their arms. An occasional wail was heard as stories of the loss of others were told by survivors, broken by the memories, to those who waited in vain. Brion and Justinus stood apart from the throng. They had only come to see if there was anyone who could use their help. They had not formed any close bonds with followers of Crixus, outside of Agron. They were surprised when Nasir suddenly appeared beside them, along with Naevia. She had visited his tent after Brion and Justinus left and convinced Nasir that it was their duty to be there to welcome back those who had felt enough faith in Crixus and Agron to follow them into battle. The two lost souls watched with mixed feelings. Nasir spoke for them both as they eyed the mass of people.

"Would that those we held to heart stood among them," he all but cried.

It was at that moment when the wave of people parted just long enough for Brion to see something totally unexpected. He pointed out what had caught his attention to Justinus. A look of shock and awe crossed their faces. Brion leaned in closer to Nasir.

"Nasir!" he said quietly, yet firmly.

Nasir turned to look at Brion and saw that he was not looking back at him, but instead... staring directly into the crowd, as was Justinus. Nasir turned back to see what had captured their gaze. It took less than a heartbeat for Nasir to recognize the battered face of his beloved Agron, leaning heavily on Spartacus for support as he made his way into camp with his eyes to the ground. Nasir's breath caught in his throat. He could barely breathe, but it did not stop him from moving forward with haste, desperate to reach the vision in front of him before it disappeared like a dream upon awakening. He reached the two men within seconds, although it seemed forever. He stopped their progress, although Agron had not yet lifted his eyes. Nasir reached up and laid his hand gently upon Agron's filthy cheek. He had never felt anything more comforting. His touch at last brought Agron's green eyes up to lock on his brown ones. Nasir stroked Agron's face as if he was a tender babe in need of a gentle touch. Their eyes remained locked in an embrace.

"The gods return you to my arms," Nasir choked out.

"I was fool to ever leave them," Agron admitted.

Nasir gave Agron's face one last caress and then took Spartacus's place, gladly shouldering the weight of his lover as they walked away. Justinus started to move towards them, wanting to help support Agron, but Brion held him back.

"He will send for us when time is right. Now is time for proof that they yet live as one, and for that they need no witnesses. Let us return to our tent and praise the Fates that returned our friend to us."

Justinus agreed. Brion was a man of great wisdom. Agron still lived. That was all they needed to know for now. There would be time enough to later gauge his feelings over events since they had entered the man's life. The consequences over their choices had nearly cost Agron his life and Nasir his happiness. If their friendships were to continue in the future, it would be up to Agron. The only thing that was certain for now was that his heart still beat for only one man... Nasir!

To be continued.................


	19. The Way Back To What We Were

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agron has been returned to Nasir's loving arms, but there is much left to settle between them, including the story behind the couple that they had taken to their hearts. And, of course, their war is far from over. Before their final conflict with the enemy, many of them will need time to heal, some in more ways than one.

"Agron," came a soft voice, out of the darkness. 

Agron turned his head slowly in the direction the voice came from. His head still ached, almost as much as his battered body. Despite the pain, he felt himself smiling inwardly. He knew that voice better than his own, and it was comforting to hear. 

"Agron, close eyes. I must put torch to candle to better see what must be done."

When Nasir first brought Agron into their tent and lit the candles, the light hurt his eyes. Nasir immediately snuffed out all but a single small candle, once he had settled his beloved onto their sleeping mat. There was much to do to tend to Agron's wounds so they could begin to heal, and Nasir did not want anyone else taking on the job. He had been a part of the rebellion long enough to learn what needed to be done for injuries. All he needed was the necessary ointments and salves the medicus carried that would fight infections. If any wound was too deep, Nasir had learned from personal experience how to cauterize it so it too could heal. Once Agron was at rest, Nasir hurried away to get the necessary supplies. He saw Brion and Justinus standing outside their tent and gave them a nod, indicating he was in control and not to worry. They understood the look in his eye, and nodded back. Once he returned as quickly as possible, he needed more light, since the moonless night had taken over outside. His arms were laden with fresh, clean bandages and medicines. 

"Make haste, Nasir. To set eyes upon your face again is worth any discomfort brought by light."

Nasir could not help smiling. It appeared that Agron still loved him as much as he ever had, despite discovering that his lover had not trusted him as he should have. They had both made mistakes, but there would be time enough to discuss that later. For now, Nasir's only concern was making sure that Agron made a full recovery. That, and also that they never slept apart again. Nasir laid his supplies down and brought the torch from outside into the tent to light the remainder of the candles. After replacing the torch, he came back to Agron, who lay prone upon his back, but had his eyes riveted on Nasir. Agron saw the look on Nasir's face as he witnessed the full extent of the damage done to his lover's body, thanks to the blood soaked bandages that crisscrossed everywhere.

"I fear we shall grow old with matching scars someday," Agron joked.

"You jest, where there is no humor," Nasir gritted through his teeth. "The fucking Romans shall pay for each mark you bear."

Nasir knelt next to Agron and began removing the filthy bandages from around his waist and across his chest. Miraculously, it looked as if none of the wounds from sword cuts had become infected. The slice across his upper chest was not too deep, but the one just below his chest on the other side went deeper. Again a miracle blessed them. The wound would need stitches, but it had not gone deep enough to damage any vital organs. Nasir got to work immediately. He had brought fresh water, and oils taken from the Roman villas, to cleanse the dirt, grime, and blood from Agron's body, paying particular attention to the wounds. Agron lay naked and still, his eyes half-closed as Nasir fussed over him. Although his body ached all over, Agron had never felt more soothed. Nasir's touch was gentle. Each time Agron winced in pain, Nasir stopped abruptly and bent over with a soft kiss and apology before returning to his loving care. Nasir's greatest anguish came when Agron finally lifted his hands for inspection. Although Nasir had seen the blood-stained bandages wrapped around both of his hands, Agron had not said a word about being crucified. What he saw when the bandages fell away was totally unexpected. Tears formed in the corner of Nasir's eyes when he realized how badly damaged Agron's palms really were. 

The spikes had made clean cuts straight through the flesh of Agron's palms. The holes could be seen on both sides of his hands. They were not that large, but Nasir knew that it would take a very long time for Agron to have full strength in his hands again, if ever. He knew instinctively what that would mean for Agron's future as a warrior. His thoughts were mirrored in Agron's face when Nasir glanced at it to see his reaction to his hands being exposed. Now he understood why Agron had returned to them appearing as a broken man. These particular wounds, although the least deadly, had done the most damage to Agron. For a man like Agron, it was nearly equal to being castrated. Nasir fought hard to keep his composure as he set about tending to the hands too. Once he had stitched together Agron's side wound and finished applying the salves and ointments the medicus had given him, Nasir re-bandaged where needed and covered Agron's large frame with his favorite blankets. He snuffed out the candles and slipped under the covers to join his lover. Nasir turned on his side and slipped his arm under Agron's neck, his hand tenderly caressing Agron's cheek, while his other hand stroked Agron's arm. He heard Agron sigh, and then the muffled sound of quiet weeping.

"Shhhhh," Nasir whispered. "You will never sleep alone again, my heart. And when the morning comes, we begin our healing... in soul and flesh."

Nasir felt Agron's muscles begin to relax in his neck, and the dampness on his cheeks slowly tapered off. He waited until he heard the familiar sound of Agron's low snore before he allowed himself to drift into sleep too. He knew the morning would bring a flood of emotions that had to be dealt with, but he was prepared. He didn't care what needed to be done to set things right and bring Agron back to the man he loved more than his own life. Whatever was required of him, Nasir would give it willingly. He now knew why Agron had left him, or at least he suspected the reason after talking with Brion, and he would move heaven and earth to convince Agron that he would never keep anything from him again... because it was the truth.

***************************************************** 

Spartacus had been wise in not allowing too much time to pass before going on the march again with his people. Normally the rites of passage for the dead among the Romans would last up to nine days, but Crassus's hatred of Spartacus was by far stronger than his desire to stick with tradition after the loss of his eldest son, Tiberius. Instead, Crassus had a funeral mask made of the boy so that he could carry it with him as a reminder of why he must win the war over the rebels. He then allowed the shortest time possible to have Tiberius's body cleansed and prepared for travel. They were within sight of Rome and the grand villa that his son had been born and raised in, and his wife waited patiently for the return of her husband and son. Crassus would not waste a moment in returning to Rome himself as long as Spartacus still lived, but he had to send Tiberius back for proper handling of his body, which would include all rites owed a nobleman of high rank. It was the least he could do for the mother of his children, who had lost her first-born thanks to his folly in sending the boy directly into the hands of the enemy. As for his next move, he ordered Caesar to prepare the men for their march towards the last known location of the rebels.

By the time Crassus, Caesar, and the legions arrived at their destination, Spartacus and his rebels had moved on and left nothing but cold embers behind. Before departing the site, Spartacus devised another strategy to confuse the competing forces coming after them from both Pompey and Crassus. While sending the non-combatant members of their flock forward towards the Alps, Spartacus split his warriors into separate bands of marauders, led by his best fighting forces. They spread out all over, attacking one villa after another with lightning speed, and always leaving someone alive to declare that they had been attacked by Spartacus himself... proof of which was the battle cry of 'I am Spartacus' that every leader of that band shouted as the villas burned to the ground. Then the bands would reassemble before heading out again on more raids. 

This maneuver continued for weeks while the injured rebels were ministered to by loved ones and those schooled in medicine. With the tender care provided by concerned caregivers, many of the five hundred ex-captives began regaining their strength and abilities to fight in future battles. Agron was among them in all ways but one. Despite Nasir's constant attention and nursing, Agron's hands were still too weak to even hold a cup to his lips unless using both of them at the same time. His grip failed him every time when he tried it singlehandedly. The holes on both sides of his palms had finally closed over, leaving ugly mottled, circular scars, but the real damage was done. The spike that pierced his flesh had miraculously missed the bones in both hands, but done severe damage to the muscles and nerve endings. It appeared that Caesar had been right in declaring that Agron would never wield a weapon again. As each day passed, and he saw others that had been with him in the Roman camp getting stronger and more capable of fighting again, Agron grew increasingly despondent. Nasir became increasingly concerned about Agron's mental well-being, more than his physical health.

Just before moving out from the camp where the games had been held against the Roman soldiers, and the place where their people had been returned to them, Spartacus had a huge funeral pyre erected to cremate the only part of Crixus that remained. It was during this solemn ceremony that Brion and Justinus finally had the chance to connect with Agron. Despite his weakness, Agron insisted on attending the ceremony, leaning heavily on Nasir for support. Nearly everyone was moved to tears, while filled with emotions that threatened to overcome them, after listening to Spartacus's tribute to the fallen. As the flames devoured the last of Crixus, names were shouted out in memory of those that had died for their cause. Agron called out the name of his lost brother, Duro, adding his name to the list of brave men and women who died in pursuit of their dream of freedom. 

As Agron and Nasir started to leave the gathering, they found themselves face to face with Brion and Justinus. There was a moment of awkward silence as Agron stared straight at Justinus. Nasir felt Agron's arm shaking as it lay over his shoulder. No one spoke. Agron's eyes seemed glued to Justinus's face, as if he was searching for answers to questions unspoken. Justinus did not smile, nor did he frown. He waited, sensing he owed it to Agron to let him do, or say what he must first. Surprisingly, it was Brion who took the lead.

"It gladdens heart to see you back in arms that missed your presence far too long, Brother!"

Agron's eyes shifted to Brion. He saw the warmth and sincerity in Brion's eyes.

"A place I shall never part from again as long as breath is in me," Agron responded. He glanced back at Justinus again and then returned his gaze to Brion. "It gladdens heart to see my friends again. We must break words soon, to stand on solid ground once more."

"When you are ready, Agron. We will break bread and words. No secrets will divide us... in flesh or spirit."

It was the beginning. The entire camp was on the move the next day, but once they had settled in a central location after that, the two couples finally got together to discuss all that had been kept hidden from Agron. Agron was relieved to know that Justinus was actually only half Roman, although he laughed ironically when he learned that the best part of Justinus's character came from his Roman mother and not his Celtic father. Agron's face reddened with anger as he learned when, and under what circumstances, Nasir discovered Justinus's secret. He calmed a bit when he learned that one of the two men who had threatened Nasir had been dispatched by his own hand at the gate of Sinuessa, while the other met his fate at the end of Brion's sword. 

"A fate most deserved," muttered Agron.

"Agreed," responded Justinus. "He was father in name only. Just as he was Celtic in name only. Even truer, he was human in name only. The beasts of the field bear more honor than he who gave me life."

"I beg forgiveness for being instrument of their deception, Agron," remarked Brion.

"You? What part did you play in this drama?"

"It is I who did not trust as I should have. Too many days spent hearing venomous words spoken, regarding Romans, whilst working together formed doubts. I've witnessed far more of the dark nature of such thirst for vengeance than Justinus or Nasir. I feared not for self, but for what I must do to protect Justinus if you were blinded by your rage, and numb to Nasir's pleadings."

"I understood your feelings, my friend... and hold no malice, as I would behave in like manner if roles reversed. It stood reason for trust with Nasir's well-being that I laid at your feet upon departure. "

"Brion takes on more guilt than deserved," Nasir interrupted. "I gave promise not to reveal their truth for just cause... it was not mine to expose... but made weak attempt to divert their course of action in keeping silent. I feel great shame in such failure."

The couples were seated around a small fire-pit where they had roasted a rabbit for their dinner. Agron pulled Nasir closer to him, laying his arm around Nasir's shoulder and bringing their foreheads together.

"Do not speak of shame to me, Nasir. Never have I known a man with less cause for shame than you. Our stories are written in the book of life, and this chapter is over. We begin anew...." Agron turned to Brion and Justinus. "...as lovers, and as friends."

The four men lifted their cups and gave a salute to the future. Much had changed in the short time the two couples had been together. There was a certain loss of innocence now, but they exchanged that for a maturity that boded well for the future of them all. The important parts of their relationships, with their lovers and each other, was still very much intact, and stronger than ever. There were no more secrets left to cause a rift in the fabric of their friendships. They would stand by each other in every way. They knew that their futures were even more uncertain than before, with two powerful armies... that of Crassus and Pompey... seeking to end their rebellion as swiftly and as permanently as possible, but they also knew that they would not make their destruction an easy task for either Roman. Even if history would not remember any of their own names, the name of Spartacus would never be forgotten. Of that, they were all certain, and they were proud to be a small piece of the tapestry of the life of Spartacus... the great rebel gladiator.

To be continued...........


	20. Life or Death, But Free Either Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At last, it has come. The war of slave versus Roman masters for the call of freedom has reached its final deciding battle, led by two brilliant tacticians... both determined to be the victor. Rebels will be divided into two groups... those attempting to escape to the Alps so that they can cross to true freedom, and those staying behind to meet the superior forces of Crassus and his legions. Naturally, Agron wants more than anything to follow Spartacus into battle, but will he be able to after being severely injured when nailed to the cross? And which direction will his lover Nasir take? What of Brion and Justinus... will they choose the road to freedom or feel compelled to join Spartacus too? Choices are made, and fates are sealed.

The scheme that Spartacus had conjured up to confuse their enemy, Pompey to the North and Crassus to the South, had borne fruit. By striking villages all over the map with his separate bands of raiders, all declaring themselves to be led by Spartacus himself, Pompey found himself chasing his own tail. Unfortunately, within days of hearing such conflicting news from forward scouts about the raids, Crassus had discerned what Spartacus was up to. It was a plan he would have used himself. Crassus's only problem was that his own scouts still had not narrowed down where the main body of rebels were camped. His frustration grew as time passed. Neither he nor Caesar wished to share the victory of defeating the rebels with their arch-rival, Pompey. It was imperative that his men engage Spartacus first.

As for Spartacus, he rejoiced in the extra time his deception was offering his people to gird themselves for what he knew would be a deciding battle. For him, his own safety was not the number one concern. It was to have the chance to divert the Romans from his one true goal, which was in seeing that there was enough time for as many of their people to reach, and cross, the Alps before scattering far from Roman grasp. They had already improved their chances with the extra time the maneuvers had allotted them. Those who were unable to fight, due to age, lack of skill, or infirmity, had feverishly prepared for their last push towards the Alps. Ex-captives, such as Agron, used the time to heal and return to fighting form. Agron's health returned by leaps and bounds daily, thanks to Nasir's tender loving care. He had even healed enough to return to some of the vigor of their lovemaking at end of day, although his hands still gave him trouble. The worst part was his inability to totally feel Nasir's body with his hands, as he once had. He tried to be grateful that he could still feel his beloved with every other part of himself, but he couldn't stop his frustration at the slowness of his progress towards full strength again.

Spartacus stood beside Gannicus as they watched progress being made towards their most ambitious plan. Earlier they had deliberately allowed Roman scouts to find them at last, knowing that Crassus would quickly bring his troops to the place that Spartacus had chosen beforehand for their final stand. With the coming of the darkening night, the others would begin their march to the mountains, while Spartacus and his warriors forged ahead in the opposite direction to face Crassus. Once the two leaders returned to the main tent, they discussed the coming battle. They were overheard by Agron, who had come to the tent eager to learn the details of coming plans. Agron understood why Spartacus had not included him in many of their strategy sessions while he was still so weak, but he had worked hard to regain his former strength and was convinced he was ready to rejoin Gannicus at the side of Spartacus. As the two men spoke, Agron let his presence be known. 

"I would lend much needed aid in giving Crassus fucking pause," he announced to his compatriots.

The two men saw the look in Agron's eyes. He was silently pleading with Spartacus to accept his offer. Spartacus knew he had to give his former right-hand man a chance, even though Nasir had confided in him earlier, upon questioning, that the healing process was slow for Agron's hands. Spartacus pulled his own sword from its scabbard and turned the handle facing Agron.

"Grip sword, and have it so," Spartacus promised.

A flash of fear appeared in Agron's eyes, but he nodded his head and reached for the weapon. His sword hand wrapped as tightly as it could around the hilt. Spartacus let go of the blade. Agron struggled mightily to hold his grip, but in three seconds the sword slipped from his grasp and fell to the ground. His breath left him and his head bowed.

"They have taken all from me," he whispered in obvious agony.

Spartacus's heart wept for his friend, but he could not allow Agron to wallow in self-pity. His hand clasped Agron's arm.

"You will yet serve purpose in coming battle by seeing those who cannot fight, to the mountains. Return to task with Nasir, and prepare for journey."

Spartacus did not speak these words as someone offering balm to a wounded man, but as a Commander giving orders. He knew the tone of his voice would give some measure of pride to a man broken in spirit. Agron responded as in better days, by nodding acceptance of the order and leaving with his head held high. Gannicus, however, noticed that once Agron left the tent, his head again dropped down.

"The man is more dead than living, yet eager to give life to your cause," remarked Gannicus.

He could not know how accurate he was. Although Agron was joyful at being back in Nasir's arms, he felt less and less a man as the days and weeks passed and he began to realize the hopelessness of regaining the strength in his hands in time for the final battle with Crassus. Brion had tried sparring with him several times while Nasir and Justinus were off together taking care of their tasks, but Agron was never able to hold his own with Brion any longer. Agron confided his feelings of inadequacy to Brion, but could not bring himself to complain to Nasir. He knew that seeing pity in Nasir's eyes would destroy him utterly. He slowly shuffled his way back to his tent. He was in no hurry to get there. He knew that Nasir was waiting to hear what Spartacus had to say about him joining the others in the upcoming battle. Nasir had not said that he would join the fighter since he had already been told that he was needed as a guard to escort those making their way to the Alps. It was what Agron wanted for Nasir too. Everyone knew that this upcoming battle would probably be their last, and that it was more a diversion to give the others time to escape than a skirmish to end the war in their favor. More than anything, Agron wanted Nasir to live, but he also didn't want to be parted from him again. Now his divided desires was a moot point. Whether it made him feel less a man or not, it appeared he would be accompanying Nasir to the mountains. 

What Agron did not know, as he made his way with heavy heart towards his tent, was that Nasir had spoken with Brion and Justinus on more than one occasion of his concern for Agron, if he was not healed enough to fight in the final battle with Crassus. Nasir had become a skilled warrior, more to impress Agron and Spartacus, and to stay alive, than for any love of fighting. Agron was a born soldier, which accounted for his ease in learning the ways of a gladiator. Nasir was most definitely not, but he understood Agron's heart as if it was his own. He wanted very much to help Agron in dealing with his infirmity, but no miracles came to mind. But one evening, during a conversation with Brion and Justinus, an idea came to him. Brion was describing one of the warriors from his Celtic tribe that he had admired in his youth. The man had a hand cut off at the wrist by an enemy during a raid. His father was the tribe's armorer, and made it his goal to provide a means for his son to continue to protect himself if needed. The young man still had his sword hand, but could no longer hold a shield. His father developed a shield that could be firmly laced all the way up his son's arm without slipping off. Brion described how it took only a short time for the warrior to become proficient in the use of the shield, along with his sword.

Nasir spent the next few days discussing with Justinus his thoughts on something similar for Agron to use... something that would not require a steady grip on his sword, but would also protect him with a shield. Justinus, who had always loved the art of drawing, sketched out some of Nasir's ideas, until the two of them finally came up with a picture of something that Nasir was certain was the answer to their problem. He took Justinus's drawing to one of the men who had the task of forging and repairing weapons for the rebels. The old man had never seen anything like it, and was not that certain the idea held merit, but he respected Nasir and was more than willing to give the plan a try. He brought the completed makeshift weapon to Nasir shortly after Agron left to speak with Spartacus. Now Nasir only needed to wait on Agron's return. He didn't have to wait long. The moment Agron entered the tent, Nasir knew that the answer to Agron's request to join the fighting rebels had been unfavorable. He smiled inwardly, but gave no indication what he was thinking.

"You appear as one forced to drink poison, then left to make your way home while yet still breathing," Nasir noticed.

Agron made his way to the table where a jug of wine stood next to their cups. He poured a generous amount and drank it all in one gulp.

"Poison would be quicker than what the Romans have done to me. They have taken all from me," he repeated, from what he had said to Spartacus earlier. "All but my heart," he added hastily as he gathered Nasir into his arms.

Nasir kissed Agron passionately and then pulled out of his lover's arms. He went over to the corner where he had hidden the new weapon, and pulled it out from under the blanket that covered it. He brought it over to Agron and handed it to him, almost ceremoniously. Agron stared at the object in wonderment. It looked like a fusion of sword and shield, with the blade protruding on the outside from a gash in the shield so that much of its length was now deadly weapon when swung at an enemy. The inside of the shield no longer had a simple grip, but rather a number of belts welded on so that Agron's hand and arm could be lashed to the grip in a way that would make it almost impossible to be torn from his grasp. His eyes fell on Nasir in awe.

"You crafted this?"

Nasir smiled and turned the shield so that he could demonstrate how it was to be used.

"We will lash hand to grip so it is not torn from grasp if called upon to split Roman flesh."

Agron walked a few steps away, admiring the thing of beauty. His eyes seemed brighter already. He turned back to Nasir, but his smile quickly changed to a very serious look.

"I cannot flee to the mountains with the others," he sighed, almost apologetically. "Despite command, my place is upon field of battle." 

His voice grew stronger, and he seemed to grow taller with each word.

Nasir knew it was coming, even before he had the weapon made. His heart was filled with fear for them both, but he knew what Agron needed to hear.

"As mine is forever by your side," Nasir declared.

The lovers looked into each other's eyes and saw love that knew no boundaries staring back at them, along with the fear of what was to come. They fell into each other's arms. Agron kissed Nasir with all the deep emotion that any man could ever feel for his life's companion. He did not know why the gods would reward him with such a man walking into his life, but he would be eternally grateful. Knowing that Spartacus would shortly call everyone to a final meeting before each group went their separate ways, they felt an overwhelming need to express their love physically for what might be a final time. 

Nasir closed the tent flap and walked over to Agron, removing his cloak and subligaria as he did. He helped Agron in removing his garments and the two embraced tightly before lowering themselves to their bedding, which had not yet been bundled up in preparation for the move. Their kisses started slowly, as they lay hands along cheeks, softly rubbing rough stubble grown there since morning. Agron could not feel Nasir's skin as perfectly as he once did, but memory served him well as he explored places he knew better than his own body. Nasir brought his lover as much pleasure with his explorations as Agron was giving to him with each gentle stroke. Soon the gentleness increased in its intensity as kisses began to deepen and tongues explored mouths. Groins began grinding together with more fervor as they lay facing each other on their sides. 

Soon enough, Nasir began moaning with need. His body ached to be possessed... to be carried away to that magic place in his mind and body that only Agron could reach. Agron felt an even stronger need to become one with Nasir in a way that always made him feel complete, like a man who had found his other half... his best half. Agron's cock was certainly ready. All he needed to do was rub some of the oil they used against Nasir's opening and himself, so as to make his invasion as comfortable as possible. They had become quite skilled at knowing what was needed, and Agron set to work in preparing them both. When he had completed his task, Agron rolled onto his back and waited for Nasir to mount him. He loved looking up at Nasir as his lover rode his cock until he was panting from the effort. Nasir's eyes always darkened as his orgasm approached, signaling Agron to meet his lover's downward movements with even stronger upward thrusts. The couple did not want to hurry things along this time. Each time one or the other felt their scrotum tightening, they eased off, resting for a moment until the feeling subsided and then starting the ride all over again. Those brief interludes were punctuated with passionate kisses, until they finally reached a point of no return. Agron spilled his seed only minutes before Nasir gained his well-earned release too. Nasir continued to lie upon Agron's body, even as Agron's manhood slipped from its safe harbor. They would rise and clean themselves before re-dressing, but for this brief moment in time, they simply wanted to stay connected, safe from the fears of the cruel world that waited for them in the gathering dusk outside their tent.

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Only a short distance from where Agron and Nasir made love, knowing it could be their last time in such an intimate connection, another couple shared the same thoughts and fears that drove the lovers. Brion and Justinus had offered their services as fighters for Spartacus as soon as word was spread of their leader's plans to divide the people, sending half into battle and half towards a chance of true freedom beyond the Alps. Spartacus was well aware that Brion had developed the necessary skills to be an asset to his fighting forces, but he was not as confident that Justinus was as well trained, even though he had the heart for it. Spartacus was also aware of the couple's history and Justinus's true identity, when they themselves came to him with their story. It mattered little to Spartacus. He knew that the measure of a man was not tied to his lineage. At first he leaned more to the notion of sending the couple as protective guards for those moving towards the Alps. It was not quite as dangerous as an actual engagement with the army of Crassus, but it was not a casual stroll through the meadows either. There was the ever present concern that Pompey's troops would discover their people before they made it to the safety of the mountain, and good fighting men were needed to stand up to Pompey's army. Spartacus had already assigned that task to some of his best people, including Nasir, knowing that he would probably have to do the same to Agron. Knowing that Brion and Justinus shared a very close friendship with Agron and Nasir, he had decided to send them with the protection detail too.

Spartacus changed his mind when Brion explained why they felt it was important that they be allowed to follow him into battle. After telling Spartacus their story and revealing their secret, Brion went on to explain how keeping the secret had affected Agron's decision to leave Spartacus's side during the split from Crixus. Spartacus remembered being surprised by Agron's decision when it happened, but he would not have ever thought to question his trusted friend. The most important credo that Spartacus lived by was that every man and woman had the right to make their own choices, and if Agron thought Crixus was making the better choice, then Spartacus would not try and stop him. Now he understood why the choice was made, and also understood why it was so important to Brion and Justinus that they follow him. Brion told him how they felt guilt over what had happened to Agron because their secret had destroyed his chances of being chosen to fight in the final battle with Crassus. They knew that Nasir would never leave Agron's side, so the two of them felt it was imperative that they take their friend's places in the defining battle.

They knew that Nasir was trying to develop a means to protect Agron while giving him back his weapon for use, but they were still not sure if their friend would be able to fight. After Spartacus agreed to let them join him, rather than heading for the Alps, the couple discussed whether they should remain with the contingent following Spartacus even if Agron and Nasir were able to do the same. It did not take long for them to decide that they would indeed go with Spartacus, whether Agron and Nasir were with them or not. It was not that they welcomed the idea of going to war with Crassus one last time. It was far more about their desire to repay Spartacus and the rebellion for what it had provided them. They owed the rebellion their lives. It was as simple as that. If the rebels had not taken over Sinuessa, there was no question that Craigh and Cassius would have seen them dead rather than live another day together. Not only were their lives spared by the rebels, but they were also given the right to live openly as the loving couple they had become, despite the restrictions forced on them by Roman rules. The very least they could do now was repay the gift of their lives and freedom by standing beside the other warriors and giving their best towards victory.

Brion offered a cup of wine to Justinus, smiling warmly at the beautiful young Roman lad who had captured his heart with his warmth and intelligence. Justinus smiled back, although he could not hide the tiny trace of fear that crept behind his bright-blue gaze.

"You fear coming storm. Your eyes betray you. There is time left to divert path you take. No fault would be laid upon you. All know... even Spartacus, that your weapons skills do not match the strength of your heart for combat."

"And you, Brion? You wield sword with a skill nearly matching that of Agron. Would you turn from battle to follow me towards the mountains?"

Justinus already knew the answer to his question. Brion felt an obligation to lend his sword to the fight. If he was led away from it to protect his lover, he would live with regret in later years. Justinus was indeed frightened. He knew he would give his all in battle, but that it might not be enough to keep him safe. Yet the thought of being separated from Brion, even if it meant saving his life, was too much to bear. So, despite his fears, he knew what he must say after hearing Brion's response, which did not come as a surprise.

"I cannot turn away from their need of my hand wielding the sword against our enemies... not even to remain at your side, though that be the place I wish to stand."

Justinus placed his finger against Brion's lips, to silence him from saying more. He brought his lips to Brion's and kissed him tenderly.

"Agron's fate taught lesson well learned. Separation is more painful than any fears realized in battle. We stand together in all things. If the Fates choose to strike us down, we enter the afterlife together... as I would have it so. And if this be our last night together, we must make it one even the gods envy."

Brion grinned. 

"Remove clothing, and see it done," he laughed.

Brion did not need to make his request a second time. Justinus was quick to shed his garments, as was Brion. They stood facing each other, admiring the sheer beauty of their respective forms. Brion had come to love every satiny inch of Justinus's fair skin, as well as the pale golden hair that graced him from his scalp to the tight, yet soft curls of pubic hair between his thighs. He admired the generous cock Justinus possessed, that always brought him such joy even when only feeling it close to his own skin. Most of all, he loved Justinus's face and the clear-blue eyes that revealed the depths of the young man's loving soul. Justinus surveyed Brion with the same kind of feelings welling up inside him as his lover was experiencing. Every inch of Brion reminded Justinus of the statues of his Roman gods he had seen throughout the city of Rome , particularly the one of Apollo. Brion was like the Sun to Justinus. His warmth had brought him out of the darkness he had felt for the last few years under his father's thumb. His loving had filled Justinus with life, the way the Sun did for all plants and creatures. But soon, they had their fill of gazing. It was time to come together and seal their thoughts with deeds. The couple knew exactly what to do for each other to bring them to the top of Mount Olympus, so the gods could weep at not having a love like theirs. And that was exactly what they did. Every touch... every kiss... every moan brought them closer to that moment of ecstasy that all long for, until they reached it at last. They lay beside each other when it was over and rested their hearts, which were full to bursting with the feelings they could barely contain. No matter what happened next, they had this moment, and all the others like it from the past, to carry with them... whether it be to another land, or to the afterlife. They were ready. All they needed now was the call to arms.

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It was a huge task, preparing for what was coming. Many of those who had turned towards the Alps paused to first offer their gratitude for their deliverance to the one man they would always think of as their leader... Spartacus. He accepted their thanks humbly, knowing his beloved wife would have approved of the path he had traveled. Those that followed him towards their fateful meeting with Crassus and his army, also expressed their gratitude, but it was to Agron that Spartacus offered his deepest appreciation. He was in awe of how dedicated the man was to their cause, and the devotion Nasir showed by creating a clever way for Agron to be able to join the others in battle. Once they saw the freedom-bound rebels safely away, the entire remaining rebels moved out. Spartacus had chosen the ground he wished to fight on carefully, and had already prepared a surprise for the enemy. 

As soon as they reached their destination, overlooking the upcoming battlefield, they stopped and waited for the enemy to appear, which did not take long. It was clear that Crassus had far more men than Spartacus, but this did deter any rebel present, as they scanned the gathering forces approaching them. To a man and woman, they were resolute in their determination to see this war to its end. As they watched, they saw one lone rider galloping quickly towards them, heading straight for the center of the line of warriors. Spartacus called for a spear and threw it towards the front of the oncoming horse as a warning to go no further. The rider reined in his mount and shouted his message. Crassus requested a meeting on neutral grounds before the conflict was to begin with the rising Sun. He agreed to only bring a small contingent of guards, as would Spartacus, knowing that his rival was a man of honor. 

The meeting happened upon a nearby hill, overlooking the two separate armies of combatants. After the two leaders agreed to talk one-on-one and dismissed their reluctant guards, Crassus cast his eye over the multitude of souls below him and then offered Spartacus the opportunity to end the war with surrender, being assured he could not succeed in winning. Spartacus calmly informed him that if they failed, at least it was a choice they had made for themselves, not one forced upon them by a master's lash. There was no more to be said... only the promise that they would each attempt to end the life of the other, once given the opportunity. 

The early dawn saw the two forces once again facing each other across an expanse of land. This time Crassus had brought up frightful weapons to the forefront... huge ballistaes, used to launch fiery missiles directly into the heart of the rebels with a first strike, and catapults, used to launch spears. As the projectiles filled the sky, Spartacus gave the command to advance, a call eagerly responded to. Agron, Nasir, Brion, and Justinus were at the head of the pack of shouting warriors as they all rushed forward en masse. With the swift rush forward, only a small number of rebels in the back of the pack were cut down. The rest continued running towards the enemy. Crassus called for his legions to advance, which they did in true Roman fashion, without haste or breaking ranks. Surprisingly, on the rebel side of the battlefield, Spartacus suddenly called a halt to his forces. They came to an instant standstill and waited. 

Caesar sat upon his horse and knew something was amiss, but it was too late for warnings. As the Roman soldiers came closer and closer to the rebels, picking up speed as they did so, Spartacus continued to order his people to hold their positions. Feeling they had the advantage, the Romans began rushing towards the rebels, who seemed to be waiting patiently to be destroyed. They guessed wrong. Suddenly the front line of soldiers felt the earth give way under their feet, and they plunged forward into a deep trench filled with spikes. The lines behind them were at first unaware of what was happening, and also fell to their deaths upon the sharpened spikes. Many more in the next few lines were cut down when Spartacus gave orders for his archers to unleash their arrows. Watching from a distance, Caesar could not help being in awe of Spartacus's resourcefulness, but Crassus had more direct thoughts. He ordered a call to be given for the testudo formation, in which the Roman soldiers covered their heads, front flanks, and back flanks in a tight form like a tortoise shell. The call went out and the well-trained army fell to command immediately, sparing many of their lives from the hail of arrows.

Spartacus was not through, however. He had once fought beside the Roman legions and knew their tactics. He had predicted this maneuver and had one of his own. He gave his next command, and another hidden surprise under the dirt was revealed. Long planks had been buried, and were now brought out and dropped onto the shields on the other side of the pit, crushing the soldiers directly underneath. With a frightening battle cry, the rebels rushed across the planks and began cutting down as many soldiers as they could. Though they were far outnumbered, the rebels were holding their own, slowly gaining ground over the enemy. Atop his horse, Crassus began to fume. In anger, he ordered his men to unleash more projectiles of fire and spears into the middle of the conflict, hoping to end the war quickly, despite Caesar's misgivings over the destruction such a move would also rain down on their own men. His desire to defeat Spartacus overcame any humanity he might have felt for his own troops.

Crassus's order was accomplishing his goal. Although many of his own men were cut down by fire and spear, so were a large number of the rebels. It included some of their best warriors, but the four devoted friends stayed close together and managed to dodge the deadly missiles, as well as the deadly blades of the soldiers. Spartacus ordered his people to continue their advance, despite their losses. He knew he had but one trick left up his sleeve. He had sent Gannicus and a contingent of their forces secretly behind the enemy lines. Just as Crassus began to believe that his superior forces were winning the day, the sound of horses could be heard riding up behind them. The men in charge of the ballistaes and catapults turned and were greeted by the sight of hundreds of rebels on horseback charging towards them. Turning away from the battle in front of them, they were forced to engage the enemy on a second front. 

Gannicus gave the command to turn the ballistaes onto the Roman legions that had stayed behind with Crassus. Without warning, Crassus and Caesar found themselves now the target of the projectiles. Crassus ordered Caesar to take his men and attack the rebels behind them. When one of his Generals suggested it was time to retreat, Crassus refused, knowing that it was exactly the reason that Spartacus had chosen this strategy. He ordered another legion to advance towards the rebels in the front. All Hell broke loose, as wave after wave of Romans descended onto the rebels from both sides of the battlefield. Even as many of their companions were cut down, somehow Agron, Nasir, Brion, and Justinus managed to survive. Twice Justinus let his guard down just enough to be cut, but each time it was only superficial. The four men closed ranks in a circle and fended off all Romans who tried to bring them down. 

Spartacus saw what was happening. Far more of his people were lying dead than the enemy by now. Their one hope would be to cut off the head of the snake. Even as he knew what he must do, he saw Crassus riding straight towards him through the fray. Crassus spotted Spartacus at the same instant and shouted his name. Digging his heels into the flanks of his horse, Crassus charged towards Spartacus, who rushed to meet the man. With perfect timing, Spartacus bounded onto fallen bodies for leverage and swung his sword at the man galloping towards him. His aim dislodged Crassus, despite the fact the blow was deflected by Crassus's armor. Crassus was stunned... something that brought his Generals to his aid immediately. Spartacus was held back just long enough for Crassus to be scooped up and rushed to the safety of a nearby hill. Ordering Agron to hold the line as best he could, Spartacus broke free in order to follow Crassus. He had a single goal... to kill the one man who could keep the Roman soldiers fighting on to the bitter end.

Crassus was surrounded by many of his men, determined to protect him at all costs. Spartacus's determination to accomplish his goal was far stronger, and once he crested the hill they fell to his fury one by one until none stood between he and Crassus. In the meantime, rebel bodies began cluttering the field by the hundreds. As Crassus and Spartacus faced each other down, even the best of the rebel warriors began falling to the sword or became too injured to fight any longer. Gannicus, Naevia, Lugo, Saxa, and so many others were defeated. Agron, Nasir, Brion, and Justinus received small wounds, but managed to avoid a death blow. It was as if the gods had encased them in a protective shield, or the fact that they protected each other whenever possible, that they were able to fight on. 

Eventually it became apparent that the war was all but lost for the rebels. Agron shouted to the others that they must find Spartacus. If he had managed to defeat Crassus in a face-to-face fight, it might be enough to demoralize the soldiers and cause them to turn tail and retreat. The four men grabbed the reins of nearby horses and galloped quickly towards the hill they had witnessed Spartacus running towards. They had to fight their way through a throng of Roman defenders, but finally broke free. As they crested the hill, they saw a trio of soldiers standing behind Spartacus, who was now on his knees facing a bloodied Crassus. Crassus held his sword high above his head with full intentions of bringing it down into Spartacus's chest, which was already skewered by two spears from back to front... obviously the very thing that had brought him down. While Nasir, Brion, and Justinus leapt from their horses to challenge the soldiers, Agron rode straight for Crassus, knocking the Imperator away from Spartacus and down the side of the steep hill.

Agron would have gladly followed Crassus down the hill and finished him off if he hadn't heard Nasir shouting his name. Nasir had rushed to Spartacus's side and saw the devastating injuries to his leader. There was no time for them to do anything but run from what was happening below if there was to be any chance of keeping Spartacus out of the hands of the Romans. Reluctantly, Agron agreed despite his desire to keep fighting. Spartacus still breathed, and that was enough incentive to leave the battlefield, now choked with the dead and dying bodies of rebels and Romans alike. Brion quickly used his sword to sever the two spears apart that had struck Spartacus and withdrew them as carefully as he could, staunching the flow of blood as much as possible. They sat him in the saddle of Agron's horse and waited for Agron to mount behind him, and then galloped away as fast as their horses would take them. By the time Caesar and his men found Crassus at the bottom of the hill, the dazed and wounded man had regained his footing and his senses. He ordered them to retake the hill, expecting to find a dying or dead Spartacus still there. He was mistaken. Agron and the others were as far from the hill as they could be, without looking back once. They knew what they would see if they did. The war was over, and the rebels had lost their final battle. 

To be continued.......


	21. Epilogue:  Life as Free Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spartacus, and nearly all of his most important followers have long since passed into the afterlife, sent there by the Roman Imperator, Crassus and his army. However four of his most devoted... Agron, Nasir, Brion, and Justinus... survived and have made lives for themselves outside the reach of Rome's influence. But there has always been a hole in their hearts, especially Agron's, knowing that Crassus has never paid for his cruelty. Eventually, a chance may have presented itself for them to right that wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a brief note. The fate of Crassus in my story is based loosely on actual history. All of the events involving Crassus did indeed happen in essence. I've simply played with the facts enough to include our beloved fictional characters.

Eighteen Years Following the End of the Third Servile War:

Crassus felt the bile rising from his gut to his throat as he faced the Parthian envoy sent to demand a parlay. In his younger days, he would never have considered such a demand, but those glorious days were long gone. As quickly as his anger rose, it fell into despondency. What choice did he have, he thought to himself. He had already lost the one thing that meant the most to him... his only remaining son, Publius, to this wretched war that he had wanted so badly such a short time ago. Now his lineage would die with him if he had no other son. All his wealth and power, that he had sacrificed so much for over the years, would be given to members of his 'gens', the Licinii Crassi family. He had no love for the vast majority of them, and it galled him to think they would have what was his. He knew he must do whatever it took to survive in order to have a chance at returning to Rome and finding a young wife to provide him a new heir. He had felt no desire to replace his first wife when she died, but now it was imperative that he live to do so. 

The war against Parthia had gone badly from the very beginning. Over the years since defeating Spartacus, Crassus had joined forces, although reluctantly for the most part, with Pompey and Caesar to form the first Triumvirate to rule Rome with an iron fist. There was a constant struggle between the three men to be in control of the majority of political maneuvers. Eventually, after years of amassing an ever-growing fortune and doing his best to be the man behind the power by supporting Caesar in his desires to oust Pompey, but only in secret, Crassus was given control of Syria, a Roman province offering an even larger fortune for the wealthy Consul. But more wealth was not the reason Crassus wanted Syria, rather than Hispania, which went to Pompey. Even though it had been more than a decade and a half since the war with Spartacus, Crassus still felt the sting caused by not receiving the glory for the rebel's defeat, which went to Pompey instead. He longed for military glory more than anything else in his life. Parthia, just on the other side of the Euphrates River, was another source of great wealth, but more importantly the Parthians were attempting to expand into Armenia, which the Romans wished to attain for themselves. Crassus knew that defeating the Parthians would gain military fame equal to that already earned by Caesar and Pompey. Unfortunately, the normally clever strategist had chosen to take the most direct route to reach Parthia by crossing the river, rather than accepting the help the King of Armenia offered if he would take a longer route through his kingdom, a move calculated to protect his people. 

Now, after nearly two years of planning, arranging, and making moves against the Parthians, all he had to show for it was the death of his only remaining son and the obvious defeat of his troops. He had not admitted to surrender as of yet, but he knew it was inevitable... as much so as he was certain Spartacus had known his fate and that of his rebels all those years ago. As he pondered his decision, it was made even harder because his soldiers had turned on him and demanded he parlay with the Parthians or face a mutiny of his own men. The fear he had once engendered in his troops, through the practice of decimation during the war with Spartacus, was no longer an issue. With a heavy heart, Crassus finally made his decision. He would accept a truce with the Parthian King Orodes II and pray the gods spared his life. He convinced himself that his great wealth would make him a better object for ransom than as a dead General. Word spread quickly throughout his encampment that the war would soon be over, as the messenger rode off to deliver Crassus's answer. 

*********************************************************************

Agron checked to see if Nasir was asleep before rising from their sleeping mat. He quietly pulled the tent flap aside and stepped out into the moonless night. He stared up into the blackened sky at the few stars that managed to shine through the gathering clouds that threatened rain. His mind wandered back to another evening... when dark clouds gathered and rain fell on the earth like tears shed by the gods. The drops had fallen softly on the battered and bloody face of 'The Bringer of Rain'... Agron's hero, Spartacus... as he drew his last breath on the mountain path. Agron's tears mingled with the raindrops that day, so long ago. And yet, sometimes it seemed only a short time since Agron had stood beside Spartacus as they fought for their right to be free men, along with all the others who yearned for freedom too. For years after burying Spartacus on that mountain, so that Crassus would never have his body to display in triumph, Agron had felt a burning hatred for the man. He had vowed to end Crassus's life someday, but Nasir's cooler head always prevailed. Actually it was the combined efforts of Nasir, Brion, and Justinus that finally convinced Agron to give up the idea of risking his life by returning to Roman territories to seek out Crassus.

Agron thought back on those early years after escaping over the mountain. Once the survivors of the rebellion had all crossed the Alps, they began splitting up. The majority of those who had fallen into the hands of the Romans during adulthood or late childhood, began the trek back to their homelands in hopes of finding some remnant of their past there. Those that had been born into slavery, or were too young to remember anything about their origins, usually made different choices. Some followed lovers. Some journeyed to new places that they had only heard of before in stories told by others. Some journeyed far away, while others did not go far. During the first night that Agron, Nasir, Brion, and Justinus camped after leaving the mountain range behind, the four friends discussed what they would do now with the lives that they had miraculously held onto, despite the best efforts of the Romans to part them from it. The shortest journey would be to Agron's homeland. Brion's Celtic home would mean crossing the sea and was some distance further on. Justinus knew he could never return home, not even to see his mother once more. He felt sorrow at that, but had no desire to be called a Roman again. Nasir had no memory of his birthplace. The decision was made to travel in the direction of Agron's former lands together, which would be much safer for all of them rather than splitting up. 

It took a long time to travel towards lands that Agron had come from. The four weary travelers had to be cautious at all times. Eventually they felt fairly secure that the Roman soldiers were no longer on their trail, but they never let their guard down. Agron had no idea what they would find once they reached his village. He had left his parents behind when his brother, Duro, and he, set off to make their fortunes. Their father was a tiller of the land, but both of his sons never felt a desire to follow in his footsteps, although they loved him dearly. Their father tried to convince them to stay, but their mother knew her sons too well. Her voice was the one that talked her husband into accepting their decision to leave. That had been nearly four years ago. Agron and Duro had barely arrived in a village just west of the Rhine, when Romans raided the town for not paying tribute they owed. Many of the villagers lost their homes and lives. The strong young men and women were rounded up and shackled, to be sold in the slave markets of Rome. There had been no way to get word back to his family, so Agron did not know what awaited him when he returned. The closer they got to Agron's village, the moodier he appeared to be. One night, as they sat close together in their tent, Nasir could no longer keep quiet.

"Your brow furrows more with each passing day. Share burden of thought and see it lightened, Agron."

Agron moved away from Nasir's warm presence and sighed deeply.

"My heart lies heavy in chest, the closer steps take us to my father's house."

"Why is it so?" Nasir was puzzled. Agron did not speak of his family often, but the few times he reflected on his past, the memories did not seem distressing. When Agron next spoke, Nasir could hear the pain in his voice, even with his back turned to him.

"How am I to face our father without the son he gave me charge to protect the day we left? I failed our parents. And when he asks for reasons that Duro is not of this world, how do I answer? Do I confess he gave his life to save mine? Duro was but a boy when we left, but grown he would have married and given our parents grandchildren. I can never give them that. Our family line dies with me."

Nasir was taken aback. Agron had never mentioned his feelings of guilt over Duro's death. He had always blamed the Romans, which was the main reason he was so fierce in battle against them. Actually, Agron had never told him the whole story of how Duro died. He had learned of it from others who had been at the ludus when the gladiators rebelled and began their war against Rome. Nasir had long since decided to wait for Agron to bring the subject up if he chose to, rather than confronting his lover for details that he might not wish to think about. But now that they were on their way back to Agron's birthplace, Nasir realized that Duro's death still weighed heavily on his lover's heart. He could not let Agron suffer like this. He chose his words carefully.

Leaning forward and laying his hand gently against Agron's cheek, he answered, "You speak truth for their ears. It is their right to hear it. You tell of Duro's bravery, and how the boy became a man when challenged as a gladiator. If they share the mettle I see in you, they will endure the pain of loss with strength and acceptance. No blame will fall upon your shoulders... as your brother would have it so. And if the Fates decree you are the last of your line, so be it. We are not promised immortality through the generations upon our births. Only the gods have immortality, and even they may fade from thoughts of men someday."

Nasir paused a moment before going on. 

"Agron, as free men, we choose our paths. If your wish is for us to travel elsewhere, I will follow you. Wherever you are, so shall I be."

Agron moved back closer to Nasir, feeling the warmth of his presence again. Nasir opened his arms and Agron fell into them, laying his head against Nasir's chest. He could feel his lover's heart beating against his ear. It was comforting. Nasir began stroking Agron's hair. It was not thick and long like his own, but he loved the feel of the short hairs tangling in his fingers. As Agron recalled the end of that night, the gentle caresses through his hair led to another glorious night of lovemaking with his beautiful Nasir. It also reaffirmed his decision to return home and face his parents. With Nasir at his side, he felt he could do anything. And so they did. All four of them returned to the village that Agron had called home. 

The Romans had not yet conquered this part of Germania. That would not come for another fifty years or more, when the Emperor Augustus found them a threat to his expansion of the Empire. Because of that, Agron returned to a village very much the same as what he had left behind. Facing his parents without Duro had indeed been difficult, but Nasir guessed correctly as to their reaction to the loss of their youngest. They had been certain they would never again see either son after word got back to them of their capture, so their grief over Duro's death was tempered by Agron's survival. They opened their home to Agron and his companions, being unfazed by the relationship they quickly learned he held with the young Syrian. They had known of Agron's lack of interest in women long before he left the village. They prepared a feast for their son and his friends. 

The next few years found all four men settling down for a while to help Agron's parents. With no other children to help, the family had not fared well and there were times that his father had precious little to support their needs. With four strong men now willing to help, the crops yielded far more during Agron's stay, and their small herds were safer from raids, but eventually the friends found themselves becoming restless. Brion and Justinus were the first to broach the subject of moving on. The couple had spent many evenings talking about the lands of the Celts. Justinus knew virtually nothing about it. Craigh, his father, took pains to avoid the very mention in his household that he was not Roman born, but instead was of Celtic blood. Justinus had heard of it, of course, but had never considered what it meant. Brion eventually had told Justinus the full story of what Craigh had done years before that had brought him to his high position in Rome itself, something that very few non-Romans could attain. The story led Justinus to feel a strong urge to visit the lands his father had betrayed so cruelly, though he did not really understand why. He also wanted to see where the man he loved originated from. He had only known Brion as a slave of Rome and a warrior in a bitter war. He wanted to know all he could about Brion's roots. After giving Agron's family years of labor as a sign of gratitude for their friendship and salvation, they knew it was time to strike out on their own. 

The two couples worked together to build a hut large enough for all of them to use not far from the abode of Agron's parents. As was the custom among the villagers, his parents had a home that included room for their most prized livestock. The four friends had spent far too much time living under rough circumstances and wanted more privacy. It wasn't easy for Brion and Justinus to tell Agron and Nasir that it was time for them to leave and make their own way in the world... not after having shared such intense experiences together... but they finally sat down for the evening meal one night and gave voice to their plans. Agron and Nasir understood their feelings and didn't begrudge them the chance to see more of the world. They themselves were feeling restless, even though they always felt welcome among Agron's kin. Once the seasonal crop was brought in, Brion and Justinus gathered their belongings and struck out for Brion's homeland. It would be a dangerous journey, with the Romans controlling much of the countryside, despite constant warfare with various Celtic tribes. Their plan did not include staying in areas fully occupied by the Romans. They would push on once Brion visited the site of his old village. Many of the Celtic tribes had moved across the channel into Britannia, where Romans had yet to hold sway over the people. They would attempt to make their home there, if they could, and Brion hoped he could find remnants of his own tribe if any still lived. The night before Brion and Justinus took their leave, the four friends celebrated their friendship with wine and companionship. It was an ending to one part of their lives, and the beginning of another. 

*********************************************************** 

Agron saw a dark figure approaching from the tent nearby. He recognized Brion's tall figure, despite the darkness surrounding them. He said nothing as Brion reached his side and turned his eyes skyward before speaking.

"Rain will fall before morning light," Brion remarked casually.

"Yes! The gods favor us."

"How so?" Brion wanted to know.

"Spartacus is the 'Bringer of Rain'. I asked the gods to give a sign that our purpose is blessed by them."

"I'm of a mind that you disdain existence of any gods."

Agron turned to Brion and grinned. "Belief is easy when suits purpose," he laughed.

The two men grew silent for a few minutes as their thoughts turned to the goal that had brought them here, together in this place far from both their lands. It all began a decade earlier. After nearly five more years of living on his family's farm after Brion and Justinus left, it had become excruciatingly boring for Agron. Nasir seemed content enough to till the land, as long as he could spend each peaceful night in their warm bed together, but Agron had been a man of action for far too long. His soul cried out for adventure. When Nasir saw what was happening to his beloved, he carefully broached the subject of them moving on. Although they were somewhat isolated from news of the world where they lived, word of important events did reach them thanks to the occasional traveler passing through. Strangers were always welcome, once they had been carefully scrutinized, and then questioned for any tidbits of news that might be of interest. It was through some of these rare visits that Agron and Nasir learned of the advancing careers of the three Romans who most affected the fall of their rebellion... Crassus, Pompey, and Caesar. 

About the time that Nasir was thinking that he should let Agron know that he would follow his heart wherever he wished to travel, a young man stopped in their village, along with his wife and baby daughter. The young man told of his Roman master who had died, leaving behind instructions in his will to grant he and his pregnant wife manumission. With their freedom in hand, the couple were now on their way back to the land of their birth so they could raise their child among their own people. They had lived since their teen years in the heart of Rome and knew a great deal of gossip about the city and it's politics, being slaves to a well-respected Senator. Those who were interested gathered in the village to listen as the stranger shared tales of the stressful situation within the politics of Rome, which included deep fractures between its three most leading citizens... Crassus, Pompey, and Caesar... all of whom sought to be the most powerful entity in the City. Soon he got to the part of his story that included news of Pompey's triumph over King Antiochus XIII, a feat which allowed Pompey to annex Syria into the Roman Republic. 

Hearing this news seemed to stimulate the more glorious memories of fighting the Romans within Agron's breast. Later on he would often bring up the idea that many of the people in that region of the world would not take kindly to Roman rule, and how they would need willing warriors to fight back. Nasir finally knew what he had to do. The warrior in Agron had been reawakened, and it was time for Nasir to speak his mind. The couple had spent the evening at the river, bathing after a hard day's labor in the fields. Agron rested his back against a thick tree trunk, with his naked legs spread out to make room for Nasir to sit between them. Agron was slowly running a comb through Nasir's long silken hair, removing the water that still clung to the thick strands. His mind had begun to wander when he heard Nasir saying something to catch his attention. Agron let his thoughts dissipate so he could understand what Nasir was saying. He always listened to anything his lover had to say, which usually turned out to be wise words.

Nasir caught hold of one of Agron's scarred hands and pulled it up in front of his face. He turned the heavily calloused hand over and examined it closely. Then he sighed deeply.

"Hard labor has returned strength to hands ripped by Roman curs," he declared. 

"It is true... I hold farm tools with confidence once given to sword and shield, but am still robbed of feeling that once I had when touching skin," he added, rubbing his hand along Nasir's bare chest. 

It galled Agron that there was still a certain amount of numbness in his palm and fingers, which kept him from fully being able to feel Nasir's body when he stroked it. But Nasir was right... he did have most of his strength back when it came to grasping and holding onto things. Now he wondered why Nasir brought up a subject that Agron did not like thinking about. Agron pulled his hand away from Nasir's inspection. 

"For what purpose do you drag past into present?" he inquired.

"To remind you of your destiny. Gods willing, you will see many years more, and only age will halt your objectives. Until such time, you must follow your path."

"And your path?"

"Always beside you!"

"You would leave comfort of home for me?"

"There is no comfort without you."

Agron's lips pressed into Nasir's glistening hair and he nearly wept with the love that overflowed his heart. That night, the couple made their plans to leave for Syrian lands as soon as the harvest for the Season came in, just as Brion and Justinus had done years earlier. They knew Agron's parents would miss having them nearby, but the elderly couple had always known their eldest son was not meant to stay. Telling them would come as no surprise to them. However, Agron and Nasir did receive one surprise only weeks before their planned travels. While in the field one day, they saw two horses approaching. There was something very familiar about the riders, but they did not fully recognize Brion and Justinus until they had come much closer. 

Greetings between the four old friends were enthusiastic, to say the least. It was some time before they all had relaxed enough to discuss what had brought their Celtic friends back to Agron's part of the world. As the four old companions gathered around a huge fire and shared the first meal in years, Brion and Justinus began weaving the tale of their travels, none of which had been what they expected when they left on their own. Brion explained that there was nothing left from his memories of his youth at home. The couple had a hard time adjusting to the hardships they found, no matter where they went. They had to go much further than expected to avoid areas that the Romans had wrested control over. Eventually, they tired of finding clans who made it clear they were unwelcome to linger for long. They moved on to more civilized nations where their learned skills with reading, writing, and languages were more appreciated. They were staying with a wealthy Egyptian architect named Isidorous and his family when they heard of the fall of Syria to the Romans. Their apprenticeship to the Egyptian was coming to an end with the completion of a temple, so the couple decided it was time to visit their old friends. They missed the camaraderie with Agron and Nasir, as well as being able to discuss things that no one else would understand.

Their visit changed the course of all their lives. The four men travelled together to gauge for themselves what the situation was, in and around Syria and Parthia. What they found was a confusing and disorganized mess, with dynastic squabbles among the leaders so bad that little was being accomplished. The friends hired themselves out as mercenaries to fight the Romans. For the most part, they were deemed valuable for their knowledge of Roman tactics. They often moved from one fighting force to another, never staying anywhere or with any single army of warriors for any great length of time. Agron and Brion seemed to thrive on the challenge of besting the Romans whenever and wherever they could, while their lovers remained a constant source of support and encouragement. Even though the two older men were now in their forties, they still fought like the young men they had once been. Neither was aware that Nasir and Justinus often discussed how much they wanted to settle down someday where there was no longer constant strife. The two younger men would wait, for as long as it took for their lovers to be ready for peace. There was some force driving Agron, and Brion to a lesser extent, to wish to remain in the thick of things. 

This remained true during the years that followed, but then word came to them that Crassus, their most hated enemy of all, had been named Consul over Syria. Not long after that they learned of his desire to make war on the Parthians, using Syria as his launching point. Both Nasir and Justinus saw an immediate change in the attitude of their lovers. It was as if a fire had been lit inside them. They could talk of nothing else, but the idea of Crassus being so close at hand at last. The men had thought they might get a chance to strike at Pompey, or even possibly Caesar, someday, but this was much better news. It still took more than a year before they finally reached this time and place where they now stood on this fateful night while rain clouds filled the night sky above their heads. As Agron and Brion stood together in the chill night air, they recognized that their destiny now lay in the hands of Crassus himself. The Parthian Commander, General Surena, was waiting on word of his offer to parlay with the Roman Commander, Crassus. 

General Surena had learned of Agron and his friends, and their history with Crassus and taken the men into his confidence. They had become his advisers in Roman tactics because of their successful battles against Roman troops, especially those led by Crassus, in the past. In the year and a half that Agron and his men had been with him, the General had come to trust their advice, which led from one victory to another, right up to this point when the vast majority of Crassus's men had been killed or captured. It was because of this trust that Surena revealed his true orders from his king, which was not to allow Crassus to live. He was to be killed in order to demoralize the Romans even further and hopefully keep them away from Eastern lands. It was no secret that the death of Crassus might cause a civil war in Rome between Pompey and Caesar, which would certainly keep them distracted. Their spies in Rome had passed on this news long ago. 

When Agron learned of Surena's true plans, he happily volunteered to be of help in carrying out Crassus's fate. After nearly twenty years, Agron was certain that Crassus would not recognize him. Surena agreed. Once the envoy returned to camp, a detachment of Surena's men would return to Crassus, not including the General himself, who had no intention of meeting with the Roman dog. Among this detachment would be four non-Parthians. 

***************************************************************

The light was just barely peeking through the clouds that still filled the horizon when Nasir shook himself awake and reached for Agron. Not far away, Justinus was waking almost simultaneously. The two men rose from their empty bedding and wondered what had happened to their men. Quickly dressing, they left their tents, again almost simultaneously, only to find the area around their tents nearly deserted. Justinus hurried over to Nasir. Concern was heavy in Justinus's voice, knowing that momentous events were in the making.

"You stand alone, as do I," he began. Justinus looked out towards the horizon. "Do you think of this day as I?"

"If meaning is that life, as we have learned to live it, may change by setting of Sun... then we are of like mind," Nasir agreed.

Before they could say more, they saw Agron and Brion hurrying towards them. The look on their faces told them what they needed to know, but they waited for the words to be said. 

"He has agreed!" Agron almost laughed.

Nasir and Justinus knew what Agron meant, but still waited to speak.

"General Surena orders us to prepare for travel immediately to meet with Crassus. Make haste," he instructed Nasir and Justinus. 

The men could feel the nervous energy flowing from Agron's body. At last he had a chance to face Crassus one last time. He would right the wrong that happened on that bloody hill where Spartacus was struck down. Agron could have gone after Crassus and finished him off after he knocked the man down the hill, but Spartacus had more need of him in order to escape from the clutches of the Romans. There would be no distractions this time. The order had been given, and Crassus would die this day, no matter who struck the fatal blow. Agron had every intention of it being his hand that had that honor. With this thought in mind, the four hurried away to gather what they would need for their journey.

It took hours to reach the place where Crassus had agreed to meet the Parthian envoy that was to take him to the King, or so he thought. Crassus waited in the large tent that had been set up for him. He was surrounded by the few of his Legates and Centurions who had stood by him, despite the near rebellion by his troops. Crassus was still convinced that his monetary worth would make him a far better candidate for ransom than as a dead Imperator for the heathen Parthians to display. When they heard horses approaching, he rose from his table and waited. Minutes passed that seemed like hours. Finally the tent flaps parted and a half dozen men stepped through them, spreading apart inside the tent. Crassus recognized the envoy who had brought the offer of parlay to him in the first place. His eyes scanned the rest of the group of men, but he did not see anyone resembling General Surena. He had expected to parlay with the man here, where he had been told to meet. 

"You return without your Commander?"

"We are to bring you to him," the messenger stated bluntly.

Crassus felt a moment of panic, but he had already made his choice. He nodded his head and started to walk towards the men, all of whom stood with their hands resting firmly on sword hilts. One of Crassus's men tugged on his arm, holding him back.

"Pause, Imperator. This reeks of deception."

Crassus pulled his arm free. "The die is cast. It is in the hands of the gods," Crassus whispered. 

He walked towards the center of the men who stood in front of him. They parted in the middle and let him pass through the tent opening. One of his men stood close by with his hands on the reins of Crassus's horse. Over to the side, Crassus could see many more men in Parthian uniforms sitting atop their horses. He began to feel even more uncomfortable. He regretted leaving behind what was left of his troops and agreeing to meet with so few of his men beside him. He summoned up his courage and reached for the reins of his horse, his back turned towards the riders still mounted nearby. It was at that moment that one of the mounted men moved forward, separating himself from the others. Crassus turned to see what was happening, and saw the lone rider swing out of his saddle. The man was not dressed in the manner of a Parthian soldier. He stepped in front of Crassus.

"By Jupiter's cock, we meet again," Agron announced, his hand holding a strangely made shield with a blade sticking out of it... a duplicate of the one Nasir had made for Agron nearly twenty years ago.

Crassus was confused. What did this man mean... meet again? Crassus tried to remember. There was something slightly familiar about the man, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Agron lifted his free hand in front of Crassus's face and showed the deeply scarred palm. Crassus looked back into Agron's face, and it suddenly hit him like a bolt of lightning. He remembered the man who had been close to Spartacus... the man he had ordered crucified, but then been forced to release in a bargain to regain his son, Tiberius. He had thought the man would never be able to fight again. Yet he remembered seeing the man on the battlefield that important day, carrying just such a weapon as he now held. Crassus knew, in that instant, what his fate was.

"So I am to be struck down like a common slave, by a coward with an entourage at his back!"

"As Spartacus was struck down by spears from the back with no chance of defense? But as you say, that is the lot of slaves. Yet he died a free man! You could not take that from him," Agron hissed, through gritted teeth. "Take heart... I will not end your life as you did so many innocent men, women, and children seeking only freedom. Draw your sword."

"And if it is you that lies dead...?"

Agron grinned in a way that made Crassus shudder.

"It will not be."

The combatants moved away from those that surrounded them. Nasir, Brion, and Justinus stayed perched on their horses and watched Agron fall into his familiar stance before a fight. Nasir felt a brief moment of fear. Agron was not so young any longer and did not wield his weapon very often. As consultants to leaders of these wars, they spent little time actually in combat. They had no way of knowing whether Crassus had maintained the sharp skills he was known for during the war with Spartacus. They held their breath and watched. 

In a lightning move, Crassus pressed an attack. His sword swung out in an arc, intended to connect with Agron's shield and dislodge it from his grip. Agron may have been older, but his reflexes still worked beautifully. He pulled back just in time to deflect the sword with an upper swipe of his shield. The sound of metal striking metal rang out as the two men fought for control. Crassus drew first blood with a slight cut to Agron's exposed thigh. He never felt a thing. He answered that move with one of his own, which brought Crassus crashing backward to the hard ground. Agron moved away. He was not done playing with the man. Crassus rushed back to his feet, anger suddenly clouding his better sense. This man, whom he himself had crippled so long ago, should be long dead on the cross like all the other defiant slaves. Yet here was a remnant of Spartacus still being a threat. Crassus began fighting without thought, making him more vulnerable with each move. And then, just as suddenly as it began, the fight was over. Crassus rushed Agron one time too many and was met by a blow from the blade of Agron's shield, which cut a swath through his neck from ear to ear.

Crassus fell backwards, dropping his sword and clutching at the gaping hole in his throat. Blood poured down his armoured chest plate, staining the crest engraving there with a bright crimson river. Agron stepped up to Crassus, squatting there in the dirt. He leaned down and retrieved Crassus's sword. He had no way of knowing whether it was the same sword that the man had used when he almost dealt Spartacus a death blow, but it didn't matter. Crassus looked up, his hands still holding his throat, as if the gesture would seal the wound shut. His eyes were defiant as he glared at Agron. Agron grasped the sword with both his free hands so that his grip would be sure.

"For Duro... for Crixus... for Gannicus... for Naevia... for too many to name... and for Spartacus," Agron pronounced grimly.

Agron swung the blade hard, lopping off both head and hands in one fell swoop. A cheer rose from the throats of the Parthians as they hurriedly corralled the men who had come with Crassus. Agron knew their fate, but it was of no concern to him. At last he had kept a silent promise he had made at the gravesite of his dearest friend, Spartacus, so many years ago. When he turned back to his companions, they had already jumped from their horses and were now embracing him... first Brion, then Justinus, and last Nasir. 

Nasir kissed Agron, then whispered, "It is done! Spartacus can rest in peace now... and so shall we."

Agron smiled for the first time in a way Nasir had not seen since their victory days over the Roman legions that they had fought so long ago. As the four friends walked away from the scene of Parthian against Roman behind them, they heard the rumble of thunder and felt the first drops of rain fall from the sky. Agron looked up and smiled even broader. He knew the 'Bringer of Rain' was satisfied.

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A year passed... one which found Agron, Nasir, Brion, and Justinus living comfortably in the capital city of the Parthian Empire. The King, as a reward for their services, provided them with enough coin to set up trade with such goods as silks and spices. They became successful members of the mercantile class. Each couple had their own house, with servants to attend their needs... all of whom were well-paid freedmen and women. Parthia had become a thorn in the side of Rome, so there was the constant threat of war, but Rome was never able to conquer the Empire during their lifetime. War was no longer a thought in the minds of the two couples. They had finally had their fill of the taste for it. For the rest of their lives, the two couples remained close to one another and firmly committed to their lovers. It was as it should be... as Spartacus would have wished for his friends.

The End


End file.
